


Mourning Lilies

by AliFyre



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comfort/Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliFyre/pseuds/AliFyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When estranged childhood friends Vash and Roderich unexpectedly come back into contact in University, Roderich is intent on reviving his relationship with his old friend, much to Vash's chagrin. However, when tragedy strikes Vash's life, Roderich's insistent support proves that maybe he is worth trusting again - and perhaps something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the first day of university, and Vash was running late.

The lecture hall doors were already shut when he reached them, forcing him to enter the hall loudly and awkwardly. The resulting stares he got were enough to draw a heated flush to his face, and he quickly shuffled towards the back row, hoping to find an open seat. Sure enough, there was an open desk only a few paces from where he had entered, and the occupant of the one beside it had quickly moved his things to allow Vash to sit. Vash took off his bag and moved to take the seat gratefully, only to freeze when he recognized the man sitting beside it.

Violet eyes peered up at him through thin, wire-framed spectacles, set into a face with unmistakable delicate features. Unmistakably  _familiar_ delicate features, all framed with a short fringe of dark brown hair. If Vash had any doubts, casting his gaze downwards over the man's clothing dispelled them - only  _he_ would dress so formally for a lecture.

"I don't understand what you're doing here Roderich," Vash hissed after recovering from his shock, quickly sitting down to avoid drawing any more attention. Why was he here? He had been gone for four years! When had he moved back? Why hadn't he called Vash to tell him that he had returned?

 _Not that I would have wanted him to,_  Vash thought to himself bitterly. Roderich had burned his bridges after moving to Austria for high school. Calling once after leaving Vash behind and sending no correspondence for four years would have only made things worse.

"Usually freshmen have to take breadth courses to explore their options. I'm here for one such course," Roderich replied, jolting Vash out of his frantic thoughts. Vash had to stop himself from scowling; the man beside him had not lost an ounce of haughtiness in his four years of absence.

"Why are you  _here_ though?" Vash demanded. Why had he returned? Why hadn't he called? Why on earth had he made all those promises to write home if he had intended to break them?

Roderich's hurt and confused expression was enough to convince Vash to change the question. He didn't want to know why he had returned to America. He didn't want to know anything personal about him. "You were always the teacher's pet. The back row is the last place I would expect to find you."

To Vash's surprise, Roderich turned faintly red and looked away.

"I got lost on my way here and was late," he muttered. Vash could not help but snicker; it looked like it was not just Roderich's haughtiness that had not improved. "Oh you shut your mouth," Roderich snapped when he noticed Vash's stifled laughter. "You know I can never find places properly."

Silence stretched between them as they realized what Roderich said. Feeling even more irritated than before, Vash took the opportunity to turn forward and pull his book out of his bag. Pointedly looking away from Roderich, he flipped the text open and reached into the pocket of his khakis for a pen to write his name inside the cover. Looking down, he paused his search as he noticed a note inscribed in the looping handwriting of his little sister Lili in the upper right hand corner of the textbook.

_Hi big brother! I hope you enjoy your class! I got halfway through this book before I got bored, but you're really smart so I bet you can handle it no problem! My class books are all much easier to follow, so you don't need to worry about me on class! You should make friends instead of worrying, since you always say every lone creature deserves to have friends. Love you!_

Roderich glanced over at Vash, and was slightly confused to find him smiling slightly down at his business textbook. Even in the happiest days of their childhood friendship, Vash had very rarely abandoned his customary neutral facial expression in favor of a smile. Thinking back on their earlier interaction, Roderich could not help but marvel at how he had also laughed at his poor sense of direction, even if for a moment. Roderich gave a slight, rueful shake off his head. If he hasn't changed much since his leaving, neither had Vash. He had very few memories of Vash laughing, and even fewer of laughter that had not been at his own expense. Not that Roderich had minded that much, as it was the proper thing to entertain his friend, and Vash had very rarely been cruel in his teasing.

Then again, Vash had never been  _quite_ so curt with him in their childhood. Roderich wasn't sure what to make of that. If anyone had the right to be annoyed with the other out of the two of them, it was certainly Roderich. After all, after leaving for Austria to attend a music high school on a piano scholarship, Roderich had faithfully written home for six whole months before giving up, having never received a response from his friend. Yet here Vash was, acting as if Roderich has been the one who had committed the grievous offense.

 _It's so typical_ , Roderich thought with a faint smirk as he pulled out his own book from his violet designer backpack. He was probably resentful that Roderich had left him so abruptly, and so soon after his parents had left him and Lilli by themselves. After all, Vash had always looked out for him during  _his_ hardest moments. While the timing couldn't be helped, Roderich did still feel badly for how things had turned out. Glancing back over at his old friend, he gave a slight sigh. Perhaps not today, as his surly blond neighbor did not seem interested in continuing their brief conversation, but Roderich wanted to make it up to his old friend and prove his honor as a trustworthy companion.

Thanks to the habitual nature of college students, it did not take long for an opportunity to present itself to Roderich. Walking through the heavy lecture hall doors five minutes late (he had only gotten  _slightly_ lost, thank you) on Wednesday, he saw that each and every student in his class had returned to their seats from Monday. Including Vash. Steeling himself, he made his way over to the empty seat beside him.

"Good morning," Roderich greeted with as much cheerfulness as he could muster as he sat down beside Vash and gently placed his bag on the floor. Vash grunted in response. Roderich's friendly smile faltered slightly - not that it was bound to last anyways, since cheer was not his default mode by any stretch of the imagination - but he refused to be deterred. He quickly racked his brain for safe topics, settling eventually on the one thing Vash was always happy to go on about.

"How is Lilli?" Roderich inquired innocently, peering over the rims of his glasses at Vash. Vash's head did not turn, but Roderich could see his leaf-green eyes straining to look over at him. Roderich could not help but smirk a little; Vash was, as usual, very predictable. Some things really never changed.

"Does she still dance?" Roderich prompted. He felt he could almost see the conflict running through Vash's head, and remained silent as warring interests fought it out using subtle changes of expressions on the battlefield of Vash's pale face. Most people would hardly recognize what was going on, but Roderich had long known Vash's usual "neutral" look and learned to decipher what was going on below the surface.

"Yes. She actually won a ballet competition just a couple weeks ago," Vash finally said. His body remained angled away from Roderich, something that he noticed with a slight frown. That simply wouldn't do.

"How big of a competition was it? She's pretty good, isn't she?" Roderich pressed. He leaned towards the other man as he spoke, hoping his openness would draw the same out of Vash. Sure enough, the blond turned ever so slightly to face him as he replied, although his expression remained guarded.

"Lilli's the best in the region, actually," Vash replied, his tone matter-of-fact rather than boastful. "She's been the top in her age group in all the local competitions. This last one allowed her to qualify for nationals."

Roderich's eyebrows shot up. "That's impressive," he responded honestly. He had accompanied many dancers back in Austria, and knew the cutthroat environment that accompanied girl's ballet. It was not one that he would like to be involved in any more than he had to. "Lilli must be pretty tough."

"She's a sweet girl," Vash retorted, his eyes narrowing slightly. Roderich quickly backpedaled.

"Dance is a tough sport to be in, especially when you are as kind-hearted as Lilli. The competition is brutal," he offered with a strained smile.

Vash snorted derisively and turned away. "Only you would think dance is tough." Roderich stared at him for a few more moments before realizing it was unlikely that Vash would speak again.  _Prickly as always_ , Roderich thought in annoyance as he turned to face the front of the lecture hall. But Vash had given a slight laugh, and even if it was at his expense Roderich considered it a victory.

Roderich's mission continued much like this for almost the entire month of September, almost always ending in Vash becoming apparently too irritable to continue the conversation that Roderich had started. He had started to become desperate as October began looming near, as a month had passed without him making any headway on his quest. In his worry, he called Elizaveta, his ex-turned-best-friend/confidant for advice. After laughing mercilessly at Roderich's plight, she had casually mentioned that she knew Lilli through a mutual friend. After listening to Liz's crazy story how they had met, Roderich finally managed to pry some vital information out of his friend - Vash talked about him with Lilli at home. Whether this "talking" was negative or positive did not matter much; Roderich new that anything that managed to break into Vash's conversation with his sister was important to him in some way. Armed with his new knowledge, Roderich pursued his goal with renewed vigor.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Vash opened back up to him. With a month of recent practice added on to years of childhood learning, Roderich became an expert in reading Vash's body language. From the flustered glances and flushed cheeks that were so characteristic of his usual surly demeanor to the more subtle telltale signs of him warming up, Roderich read diligently and tread carefully, determined to make things right between them. And the more they talked, the more it seemed like it could possibly happen.

Vash, on the other hand, had no idea why Roderich was trying so hard. He knew from the first week that Roderich was trying to coax conversation out of him, but could not fathom his motivation. After a few weeks of trying to stave off Roderich's constant pestering himself, Vash decided to call in his best (and only if he was being honest) defensive advisor against hostile social attacks: Lilli.

"He could just be trying to be nice, Brother," Lilli giggled after Vash had finished ranting over supper one night. Vash scowled into his fondue.

"There is no way that  _aristocrat_ is just being nice. If he was nice he wouldn't have abandoned - left, that is, so abruptly," he growled, slamming his fist on the table. The tableware gave a clattered protest, which Vash ignored. "Especially not so soon after Dad left." Lilli's green eyes softened as she took in Vash's angry expression and red face. Reaching out, she placed a gentle hand over his clenched one.

"Really brother, I don't think he did that to hurt you. Anyways, it could be good for you guys to reconnect. It's always good to have friends, and you haven't had another since then."

"I do fine on my own," Vash snapped, pulling his hand out from under his sister's. "This way no one bothers me and no one gets hurt." Lilli frowned delicately and drew her arm back to cradle it to her chest. She dipped her head, allowing her short blond hair to fall forward and cover her face, veiling her hurt expression. Vash instantly felt guilty. "Anyways, I have you, and family is all I really need."

Lilli looked up, but continued to appear crestfallen. "Life is hard when you're on your own, Vashy. And we can't always be there for each other," Lilli told him, her voice trembling slightly with pain felt for her brother. Vash looked like he was going to protest, so Lilli continued on with unusual determination. "Promise me you will at least let him try. A friendship could be really good for you."

"I don't get why it has to be  _him,"_ Vash grumbled, picking up his fondue fork and stabbing it rather violently into a cube of bread. "He's such… he's…"

"A perfectly nice person," Lilli cut in, piercing her own bread cube with as much delicacy as was possible with the pointed utensil. "I understand that his departure was rough on you, but you can't let the past ruin the present like that. Anyways, I don't see you trying to make friends with anyone, so you may as well make friends with someone who is obviously trying for you." With that, Lilli reached out and dipped her bread in the pot of melted cheese sitting in the center of the table, her expression returned to its usual happy state. She smiled slightly as she popped the bit in her mouth and tasted the rich flavor - Vash had acquiesced to her request that he buy the good (and more expensive) cheese for supper tonight. Her brother had a heart somewhere in there, she thought happily as she continued eating. He just had a weird way of showing it sometimes.

Vash's "weird way" of showing effort for others slowly began to surface in his interactions with Roderich after that. Encouraged by Lilli's words (not that he would ever admit to it), Vash became slightly more receptive to Roderich's attempts at conversation, allowing himself to give longer remarks and listen with more interest to what Roderich had to say. As their interactions grew in length, Vash could not help but notice how similar the Roderich who sat beside him in Business 101 was to the Roderich he had known as a child. He was still ever so slightly pretentious, delicate, and excessively well dressed, qualities that irritated Vash to no end. Never mind that he was almost constantly humming Classical tunes under his breath. That said, he had also retained his redeeming qualities - a sharp intelligence, ability to carry a conversation, and a frugalness to match Vash's own. Adding on the newfound friendliness that Roderich was extending, it was easy to see how Vash was slowly being drawn out of his shell by all of the familiar traits.

"What are you doing after class today?" Roderich asked one cool day in late October as class was ending. Vash paused from shoving his books unceremoniously into his military green bag to give Roderich an openly dumbfounded stare, his jaw slightly slackened. A million thoughts were running through Vash's head, the most prominent of them wondering how many times he had heard Roderich ask that very question years ago as school was ending. Flashbacks of earlier, happier times raced through his head, filling him with more emotions than he ever cared to deal with at one time.

"Going home," Vash snapped, feeling his face heat in frustration as he struggled to tame the tempest churning inside him. It was impossible to miss the brief expression of hurt that splayed across Roderich's face at Vash's words, which only served to make matters worse for the flustered blonde. Without another word, Vash zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before practically sprinting away from the hall. He knew Roderich would not be able to catch up with him - the man was still one of the slowest walkers he knew - but still made a point to make his way home even faster than usual.

It was not until he was safe at home within the confines of his gun workshop that Vash finally allowed himself to stop and consider what had happened. Things had certainly been warming up between him and Roderich this past month, but an inquiry directly after him and his plans? Roderich had yet to step past such a boundary before today, and Vash was not sure how he felt about it. Sure, Roderich had been making an effort, but did he really deserve Vash's forgiveness so soon? Especially when Vash was perfectly fine on his own?

Vash slipped his bag off with a sigh, allowing it to fall to the floor with a loud thud. Glancing up at the analogue clock on the wall, he registered that it was barely noon, much before Lilli would be getting home. He realized belatedly that he had fled the university before he had finished his classes for the day in his panic.

 _He shouldn't be getting to me like this,_ Vash thought in frustration. After all, it was just annoying, pretentious Roderich. He wasn't worth running out of class and skipping Business Calculus and Intro to Writing over, and he certainly wasn't worth considering spending the afternoon with.

And yet Vash  _had_ considered it in that brief moment of shock before instinct had kicked in and driven him from the lecture hall. Vash shook his head rigorously - he really needed to stop thinking about it. Striding over to his workbench, Vash picked up his latest project - an antique Swiss rifle that was badly in need of restoration. Guns were always a good way to calm him down and clear his head, no matter how much Lilli claimed that the opposite should be true. He settled into his work quickly, picking up his tools and shoving Roderich to the back of his mind. He didn't want to think about him now.

Nearly two and a half hours had passed by the time Lilli came home, quietly entering the home with a delicate jingle of keys and a gentle opening and closing of the door. Hearing the familiar sound of her brother's tinkering, she headed directly for his workshop.

"Big Brother?" she called, peering around the corner of the doorway. Vash quickly put down his tools and turned to face his sister, wiping his brow on his sleeve as he did so. Lilli smiled as she took in the sight, enjoying the familiarity of it. She had grown up watching Vash in the workshop, first with their father and then by himself, and finding him there was always a small comfort to her.

"Yes Lilli, what is it?" he asked, his green eyes appraising as he looked at her. Lilli was slightly slouched over, unusual for a dancer, and she looked pale. "Was dance cancelled?"

"I was feeling weird, so I told Katyusha to tell them I'm not coming," Lilli replied. It was painfully easy to hear the exhaustion weighing on her voice.

He frowned and squinted slightly to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?" The more he stared, the worse she appeared. Lilli shook her head.

"I think I'm going to take a nap," she told him wearily. "School was exhausting today and I have a headache. Is that okay Brother?" Vash took one more look at her and nodded vigorously.

"Yes, rest up. You look like you might be coming down with something," he informed her. Lilli frowned.

"I hope not. I have my duet competition with Kat on Monday," she pouted slightly.

"Well then you had better get in bed and get some rest," Vash returned, looking down at his sister in concern. "I would hate to see your hard work go to waste."

"Wait, why are you home so early?" Lilli inquired, cocking her head to one side. "You're not usually home now." Vash felt his face heat, and Lilli smiled knowingly through her tiredness.

"Roderich again?" she asked, the picture of innocence.

"Stupid aristocrat wanted to know what I was doing after class," Vash muttered angrily. "I didn't want him following me around campus bugging me about it, so I went home." Lilli chuckled faintly.

"You really should give him a chance you know," she told him with a fond smile, entirely used to her brother's stubborn antics. "Oh, I almost forgot! These are for you!" Lilli brought her left hand forward from where it had hung by her side, revealing a bouquet of white lilies. Vash's eyes widened.

"Silly girl, you didn't have to bring me these," he admonished with unusual gentleness, stepping forward and accepting the delicate blooms from his sister's small hand. He was warm with gratitude, but was lost as usual about how to express such a feeling. Unsure of what to do, he did his best to smile down at her.

"But I wanted to! I saw them on the way home and thought you could use something pretty in your life to cheer you up, since you are so grumpy all the time. Take them," Lilli urged with a grin that was only slightly marred by her exhaustion. Vash released a sigh and brought the flowers to his chest.

"I will take good care of them," he promised earnestly. That was a much simpler way of showing his gratitude than some sort of emotive display.

"Thank you brother," she replied with a yawn, stretching her arms high over her head. Much to Vash's surprise, she teetered a little with the motion as she stretched up to her toes. Bringing one of her hands back down, she rubbed the back of her head gently. "Woah, dizzy spell. I think it's time for that nap now." Vash gave her a concerned look.

"Come get me if you need anything," he told her, watching her closely. Lilli never got dizzy spells, and never, ever, teetered on her toes. She was a  _ballerina_  for goodness' sake.

"Of course brother. Love you!" she said, maintaining her weary smile. Vash's stare never left her as she turned and made her way out of the room, noting the unsteady nature of her pace. She was definitely coming down with something, he decided as she left his line of sight. Turning back to his workbench, he made to return to his work, only to find that his right hand was taken up by the bouquet of lilies. He shook his head slightly before turning and making his way to the kitchen. Using his free hand, he pulled open a cupboard and took down a tall glass to fill with water to act as a makeshift vase. After the cup was full, he deposited the flowers in it and took them to the living room, where he left placed them at the center of the dining room table. Lilli would like them there, he was sure. His task complete, he returned to his workshop and drowned any worried he might have about Roderich or his sister in his antique gun.

It took four hours for Vash to develop a crick in his neck that was bad enough to stop him from working. Glancing at the clock, he dimly registered that it was past suppertime and that he should probably eat.  _Lilli hasn't come down requesting supper yet either,_  he realized. _She must be really tired._

 _I guess I will make something for the both of us and wake her when it's ready,_ he decided. If Lilli needed her sleep, then it was best to leave her to it for as long as possible. Vash knew that napping could ruin his sister's nighttime sleep schedule, but the image of her pale and listless by the doorway was enough to keep him from waking her just yet.

In the hour that it took Vash to make macaroni - Lilli's favorite - he had still not heard a sound from his sister's room. He set the table and served two large, steaming helpings of the cheesy noodles, knowing how much Lilli loved waking up to food with her dancer's appetite. Then, his brow slightly furrowed with worry, Vash made his way up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at his sister's door.

"Lilli? It's time for dinner," Vash called, knocking three times on the hard wood with the back of his knuckles. He was met with silence. "Lilli?" he tried again, slightly louder this time. Vash frowned; Lilli was not a heavy sleeper. Reaching out, he grasped the brass knob and turned it, pushing the door open. There, lying before him on top of her bed with her school clothes still on, was Lilli, lying perfectly still.

"Lilli?" Vash said again, his heart sinking. Lilli loved to snuggle up under her covers. She  _never_ slept on top of the bed.

No response.

Vash rushed forward, his heart in his throat. He had  _known_ there was something wrong, that she  _never_ got dizzy and  _never_ skipped dance just because she was feeling a little under the weather. He placed a large hand on her shoulder and nudged her, gently at first, but quickly escalating to full on shaking.

"Lilli? Lilli? Wake up!" Vash begged, placing his other hand on her and continuing to jostle her. This couldn't be happening, Lilli was  _fine,_  she was bright and happy and  _vital,_  just as she had been this morning. There was no possible way this was happening. "Lilli  _please."_

Nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Roderich paused for a moment beside his desk, taking in the dark wood of the chair beside his own. He was by now familiar with the contours of it - the dark ridges along the edge, the hastily scrawled graffiti in silver sharpie coloring the slightly curved back.

 _That's it,_ Roderich thought.  _Something's up._ After all, if Vash had been missing for long enough for Roderich to memorize the image of his empty chair, then certainly he had been absent for long enough for it to be an issue. Roderich had an impeccable memory - he  _was_  a musician after all - but it would have taken him at least three classes to fully imprint the vacant seat into his mind. Monday and Wednesday had both been long classes without his deskmate, forced to listen to the professor's droning voice in empty solitude, a trend that now extended to Friday. That was far from acceptable, Roderich decided as he sat in his own seat and placed his bag neatly on the floor beside him. After all, Vash might have been falling behind on his studies, and no proper young gentleman like Roderich could let such a thing happen to a fellow student. Especially since things had finally begun to look up between the two of them.

 _I'll go see him after lecture,_ Roderich resolved, reaching down to pull out a dense binder out of his bag. Straightening, he placed it on his desk with a heavy thud, his delicate arm muscles protesting slightly at the effort. If he was especially efficient with his note-taking, he might even be able to make copies of everything Vash had missed in the past week. After all, that  _was_  what a proper gentleman would do for a… friend?

 _Perhaps not yet,_  Roderich thought, a slight frown skirting briefly across his delicate features. The way him and Vash had parted last Friday had proved that they were still far from that, but Roderich still had hope.  _But this is a good way to cross such a bridge, is it not?_

His mind made up, Roderich pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger and opened his binder with his free hand. He had some work to do to ensure his mission's success.

~oOo~

Vash was cold.

The warmth of the bodies packed into the chairs around him did nothing to numb his frozen heart, and if he was being honest, he liked it better that way. As usual, he was finding little comfort in the presence of others and wishing desperately for solitude.

 _Solitude,_ he thought bitterly, casting his eyes up past the throngs of black-clad mourners up to the open casket that stood not five yards away in the dewy grass of the late autumn morning. He could not see the body within, but that did nothing to ease his suffering.  _The universe sure does have a damnable way of granting one's wishes._

There was nothing Vash wouldn't give to be drawn out from solitude now, to be dragged out of his room for a picnic in the park or to have a small voice calling out to him in his workshop as he tinkered with one of his many guns. Rather than a sea of black cloth, a flash of pink skirt, a glimpse of violet ribbon, a call of "big brother" instead of the mournful voices of the choir. The easy greens of fresh-cut grass and warm browns of newly turned earth were empty comforts, too far off from the shades he craved. The vibrant amber of falling leaves and soft gold of morning sunlight were practically mocking him, reminders of a brightness his life would never again have. Vash knew that if he strained his neck a little bit he could see the colors he longed for, but even that in itself hurt too much. He couldn't bear to see Lili that way. Lili was supposed to be warm and full of color and life.

Instead, she was even colder than him.

Vash's cool demeanor lasted far longer than anyone expected it to, himself included. His carefully neutral expression stayed perfectly intact through all five heart-wrenching eulogies. Even the blubbering speech delivered by Lili's best friend and dance partner Katyusha had seemed not to faze him, the only sign of reaction coming in a stiffening of his shoulders and a slightly bit lip. Beside him, even his ever-stoic cousin Ludwig could be seen wiping away a few errant tears.

He stood rigidly still all through the hymns, his fists clenched in the dark fabric of his expensive suit pants, a waste of money that he had, as always, only been willing to make for Lili's sake. Even if that meant for the sake of her funeral. Remembering the expenditure as he stared down at his own balled hands brought a brief splash of emotion to his face - the faintest of smiles danced across his visage, only to give way to the darkest frown one could make with such minimal mouth movement - as he considered how Lili had always brought out the best in him, even in death. This, however, lasted only for a fleeting moment before Vash returned to stone once more.

It was the burial that finally broke him. His stone-like rigidity quickly shattered as the casket was sealed shut, giving way to a subdued trembling that increased in intensity with each passing moment. His clenched fists shook the most violently, ripping small tears in his silk pants as he grabbed at them to quell the shaking. The most telling thing was that he couldn't care less about the damage to the expensive fabric. His eyes were next to give in, overflowing with tears as he stared dumbly at the dull grey coffin, all of the color and beauty in his life locked away for eternity within the confines of its cold, unfeeling walls.

 _This can't be happening,_ Vash thought desperately as the casket was lifted up and carried to the gaping wound in the earth. Small sounds began to escape his lips, sounding almost inhumanly agonized as they grew in depth and volume.  _This can't be happening._ Tears began to pour down his cheeks, searing hot trails into his cold face.  _This isn't happening._ His hands unclenched from his pants, and his fingernails dug through the tears in the cloth and into the cool skin of his thighs. Pain, hot and insistent, shot through his leg and up his spine, melting the ice away from his heart.

 _This can't be happening._ The casket was lowered into the ground, and whatever remained of Vash's cold, stony demeanor shattered. Grief filled his chest like a searing fire, spreading to fill his body with the worst pain imaginable.

He lost it.

With a heart-wrenching sob, Vash ran forward, shoving people and chairs out of the way in order to get to the grave plot. Lili was in there. He had to get she out - she was scared of the dark. Lili couldn't be sealed away in that casket, she had to be out  _here_ where she could dance and play and laugh and give her brother small smiles and knowing glances.  _This can't be happening._

" _No!"_  Vash shrieked as he felt hands on him, strong hands that held him back from the muddy hole, back from his sister. "No, no no! You have to let me go! Lili is in there! She's scared of the dark, you can't just put her in something like that! She'll be so scared!" Vash struggled hard against his captor, but could not break free. Frantically he kicked his leg behind him, feeling the heel of his shoe connect with something hard. He was released with a pained yelp from behind him, and he fell forward onto the ground without the support. He quickly scrambled through the mud and grass, needing desperately to just open the casket, to show everyone that Lili was okay.  _This can't be happening._

The hands were on him again, and this time they were dragging him away. Vash could distantly hear voices murmuring gently to him, trying in vain to comfort him, but their world was far from his. They didn't understand Lili's fear. They didn't understand that Lili had to come home with him, that Lili had a dance recital in three days and needed to be at home taking care of herself.

Their world was far away because theirs didn't have Lili in it.

_This can't be happening._

"Vash?" A voice said gently, sounding very close to his ear. "Vash you need to stop. Lili is dead. You can't open the casket again." Vash whipped his head around to glare at the speaker, and found himself face to face with Ludwig. It was Ludwig who was holding Vash back, and it was Ludwig who was trying to tell Vash the unspeakable, the impossible. Lili wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead.

_This can't be happening._

"Let go of me!" Vash screamed, struggling all the harder against Ludwig's strong hands. "Lili isn't dead! Lili can't be dead! She can't be!"

"Please Vash, you need to stop. This isn't what Lili would have wanted," Ludwig pressed, his blue eyes shining with sympathy. His face was slightly red with the effort of holding Vash back, but he showed no signs of relenting.

"How would you know what Lili wants?" Vash demanded angrily, trying to yank his fist free. "How can you speak for her like that? Let her out and let her speak for herself!" A sob escaped his lips, and his violent resistance began to quell.  _This can't be happening._ "Just let her out…" he rasped quietly.

"Vash, I can't do that. Lili is dead and the dead must be buried," Ludwig told him firmly. Although Vash had ceased his struggling, the tall blond continued holding on to his cousin, just in case.

"Lili's not dead," Vash insisted hollowly. He turned to face the grave, his eyes fixed forward but not seeing the scene before him. "Lili can't be dead."

"Lili had a heart condition we didn't know about and went into cardiac arrest a week ago," Ludwig pressed, falling back on facts and logic as he always did. "You brought her to Children's Hospital but they were unable to revive her."

"No…" Vash whispered, unwilling to believe it.  _This can't be happening_. Yet images streamed through his mind's eye as Ludwig spoke, and he was forced to relive every moment from finding Lili lifeless on her bed to the doctor coming out with a pained look on his face to explain the heart condition that had killed his sister.  _This shouldn't be happening._  "God, no…"

Vash closed his eyes and went perfectly still. Ludwig eyed him worriedly, not sure what else he could do for his cousin. Vash had always been a loner, meaning Ludwig had never had the chance to learn what would be considered comforting to him.

Then, Vash screamed.

The sound was akin to that of a dying animal, equally pained and even more heartbreaking. Ludwig looked behind him, desperately seeking out help. A few paces off, Katyusha and her younger sister Natalya stood watching him, the older dripping with tears and clinging to the younger. They would be of no help, he decided, straining his neck to seek out someone else. However, the more he looked, the more he realized that he was the only one equipped to handle Vash in this state. The entire funeral congregation was a mess of tears, staring helplessly at Ludwig and Vash as the latter shrieked his grief to the heavens, his whole body shaking with the sound.

That's it, Ludwig thought. Someone needed to get things under control, and as usual he was the one most capable of doing it. Vash's father had, as was expected, been conspicuously absent from all aspects of the funeral except for the financing of it, and the other adults at the funeral seemed just as indisposed as Lili's school age dance friends. Vash did not have a single friend there.

"C'mon Vash, I'm taking you home," Ludwig grunted, shifting his hands so they were holding Vash by the armpits and lifting him up. He knew his cousin would not come willingly, and decided gentle force was an acceptable tool in this situation. Vash did not even protest being manhandled, continuing to howl in agony as Ludwig threw him over his shoulder and turned to make his way towards his car. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed him as he walked.  _Just ignore them,_ Ludwig thought to himself.  _This needs to be done._

The car ride to Vash's home was undoubtedly one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Ludwig's life, and he was incredibly grateful when he finally pulled up to the small white house. Vash had, much to Ludwig's relief, calmed down enough to be able to walk on his own from the car to the house, although Ludwig had needed to unlock the door for his cousin, whose hands had been shaking too much to get the key in the lock.

"I should probably stay here a little while," Ludwig said as they stepped inside. He had a meeting in about half an hour, but he could certainly wait a few minutes for his cousin to return to a rational state of mind. Ludwig rarely saw Vash get emotional, but he knew that he could be a danger to himself when he did. Vash turned to glare at him.

"I want to be alone," he said flatly. His facial expression was deadened with grief, but his eyes blazed with a rage that made Ludwig worry what his cousin might do if left by himself.

"Are you sure?" Ludwig pressed gently. "I understand that this is a very difficult time for you and-"

"No," Vash growled, his dull expression twisting into a feral scowl. "You DON'T understand." Ludwig eyes widened and he took a step back, intimidated by the sudden rise in his cousin's voice. Ludwig was a large, strong man who was more than capable of fighting someone as small as Vash, but he knew wounded creatures were always the most dangerous. "Now get OUT of my house and LEAVE ME  _ALONE_!"

Ludwig turned and fled, practically slamming the door behind him. He could hear muffled screaming, and then the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.  _I can't just leave him in there alone, he'll hurt himself,_ Ludwig thought, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned his back against the front door.  _There is no way I can deal with that though; I would probably strangle him. Plus I have a meeting soon. But who on earth can I ask to deal with this?_

As if the universe had heard his question and was eager to answer, Ludwig's cellphone started ringing in his pocket. Ludwig sighed and pulled the phone out, far from interested in talking to anyone just then. However, upon glancing at the screen, Ludwig had an idea.

"Hello Roderich," he answered, bringing the device to his ear. This was perfect! Roderich Edelstein, his sort-of-cousin via one of his father's many marriages, had been friends with Vash when they were children, even before the Edelsteins had married into Ludwig and Vash's family. Roderich had even mentioned Vash in passing recently when Ludwig had ran into him at the university last week. He was easily the best candidate for keeping an eye on Vash. A few words to Roderich were all Ludwig needed to escape the uncomfortable mess of emotions that Vash was carrying and get to his meeting.

"Ludwig!" Roderich sounded flustered as he spoke into the phone, which was far from unusual for him. Ludwig only received calls from his step cousin when the latter was either lost or had broken something in his large apartment, and this time was no different. "I think I'm lost. I could have sworn Vash lived on Pine Street, but I've been on Pine for half an hour and I can't find his house. Do you know his address?"

Ludwig couldn't believe his luck. If Roderich had been coming to Vash's already, he must have already known about Lili's death and be coming to comfort his old friend. That both explained his absence at the funeral and saved Ludwig a lot of explaining.

"You've been back in the states for six months now and you still can't remember his address? Well, I guess you were close with the tree name," Ludwig said, shaking his head. "He lives on Spruce. 1291 Spruce."

"Spr- well darn. I could have sworn it was Pine. Speaking of which… How do I get to Spruce from Pine?" Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and explained the route in the utmost detail. It would not do for Roderich to get lost.

"How is Vash doing, by the way?" Roderich asked once Ludwig finished describing the route. "Is everything okay with him?" Ludwig frowned, unsure of how to put "he's currently raving mad with grief and breaking things in his house" gently.

"He… he could use someone right now," he replied honestly, still able to hear the distant crash of objects breaking from within the house. "Thank you for being willing to come over and see him."

Roderich paused slightly as he heard the wavering in Ludwig's voice. It could have just been the phone, but he was almost positive he had never heard his step cousin sound so worried over someone that wasn't his Italian boyfriend. "Well of course," he replied. "It's what any gentleman would do, after all." Roderich frowned slightly as he heard Ludwig sigh, but said nothing. If Ludwig wasn't reprimanding him for his "aristocratic attitude" as he called it, something must be very wrong. "I'll be right over," Roderich assured him. Ludwig gave grunted thanks and hung up the phone, leaving Roderich to stand in silence for a few moments and wonder exactly what was going on with Vash.

 _I suppose I will find out soon enough,_ he thought to himself, looking around.  _Now I need to find Yew street and take a left…_

Back on Spruce street, Vash was on a rampage. Beginning with punching the mirror in the front hallway, he had made his way through the small house putting ripping down wall hangings, throwing decorations, smashing tableware, ripping doors off their hunges and kicking furniture until his was red in the face and his entire body was aching with the effort. The loud sounds of breaking objects were an empty comfort to him, and the sharp pain of the mirrored glass embedded in his knuckles served only as the smallest of distractions from the burning agony in his chest.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he stormed up the stairs, smashing the framed family photographs that lined the walls of the staircase. At the top, he took one long, tortured look at the heavy oak door that lead to Lili's room before entering into his own. Everything that reminded him of his life before the previous Friday came under his hands and was viciously torn apart before being strewn across the room. He had to do something,  _anything,_ to get some of this burning heat out of his chest, to take his mind away from the anguish in his heart.

Pain shot up his arm as his fist connected with the wall, burying the glass in his hand even deeper into his flesh. For one blissful moment, it was all Vash could feel, and he closed his eyes to revel in it. As quickly as it had come, however, the distraction went, transforming into a dull throb that pulsed alongside the pain in his chest. "Damn it," he growled, looking around the room for something else to break, to shatter, to release his pain. Seeing that there was nothing left for him to destroy, he ran back downstairs, searching desperately for something that remained whole. The fire wasn't gone yet. There  _had_  to be more he could do to put it out. There had to be  _something_  left.

His eyes settled on a box sitting by the foot of the stairs, brown and plain and infuriatingly intact. Picking it up with his uninjured hand, he hurled it into the dining room, where it collided loudly with the wall. The box fell open, and out tumbled something small, delicate, and rose-pink - Lili's new dance slippers. The slippers for the recital she was supposed to have on Monday. The slippers that she would never get to wear.

If Vash had needed to break something before, he certainly needed to now as he stared helplessly at the brand new shoes. They were the first pair of pointe shoes Vash had bought for her, a gift for her first major recital at a pre-professional dance school. Vash tore his eyes away and cast his gaze across the room, frantically hoping that there might be something,  _anything_  left to take his pain away.

His eyes settled on the lilies. Sitting pristinely in their makeshift vase on the dining room table, they were the only things left untouched since the moment he had placed them there a week prior. They were surrounded by the destruction wrought by Vash's acute need for release, a shining beacon of order in the mess of the room. Tears streaked heavily down Vash's cheeks as he realized that they were wilting. Much like Lili herself, her last gift to him was beginning to fade from his life.

"No…" he rasped with a voice hoarse from screaming. "Don't wilt, don't go," he begged the flowers. His body began to shake. He never wanted those flowers to die. He pressed his hand to his chest as the burning agony flared up again, clawing at his shirt as if he could rip the hurt from his body if he dug hard enough. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted  _everything_ to stop.

Almost as in a trance, Vash moved. His nails still digging into his shirt, he turned and began to walk slowly towards his workshop. There was a way to make it stop, a way that he would never have to see those lilies die and his sister's memory fade. And the answer was just beyond that broken white door.

Roderich could hear the noise from Vash's house from a block away. His heart dropped as he heard the dull crashing sound of objects breaking, over and over and  _over_ again, and while he hoped Vash was not the source, he knew with a painful certainty that he was. Roderich, despite being far from athletic, broke into a run. By the time he was at Vash's door, however, the noises had stopped. He paused on the front step, panting slightly for breath as he listened hard for any further sounds of commotion. All he could he could hear was silence.

That terrified him.

His heart in his throat, Roderich quietly pushed through the front door. Upon entering the house, he was struck into stillness by the by the destruction before him. Almost every object Vash owned, it seemed, lay in pieces on the floor. The walls were hung with shattered picture frames and torn tapestries, and a cracked mirror a few paces from where he stood was smudged with blood. The only intact object Roderich could see as he took a few shaky steps further into the house was a glass cup on the dining room table, filled with murky water and a bundle of wilted lilies. Roderich frowned and turned, worriedly scanning the house for any sign of blond hair or pale skin. The destruction before him was appalling, but it was far from his main concern.

A slight sound drew Roderich's attention down the hall. His eyes fixed on a cream-colored door, half torn off its hinges and hanging open into the corridor, painful in its familiarity. Roderich's heart dropped as he realized he was looking at the door of Vash's gun workshop.

Another sound - a quiet click.

Roderich had never run so quickly in his life as he did down that narrow hallway. He barely had time to register the scene before him as he entered the workshop - Vash sitting on his workbench, eyes clenched shut with a gun in his mouth - as he rushed forward and tackled Vash. Roderich was briefly horrified by his own violence before the gun clattered to the ground, the sound of it grounding him in the present and flooding him with relief.

Vash was stunned.

The cold metal of the gun slipped away from him in an instant, replaced all at once by the soft warmth of Roderich's body as they collided and fell to the floor together. He stared up in astonishment as Roderich's face went slack with relief, just inches from his. He was unable to move in his shock. He had been so ready to face blackness, nothingness, and yet he was suddenly overwhelmed by being and  _color_ in the violets of Roderich's eyes and clothes. Heat rose to his face when he realized that he was grateful for it.

"Get off me," Vash growled, pushing up at Roderich's chest with his good hand. To his credit, the musician scrambled backwards, instantly freeing him. Before Vash could move, Roderich had retrieved the gun from the floor, holding it as if it was liable to explode at any moment. His face was a vivid shade of scarlet.

"Give me that," Vash demanded, sitting up and holding out his hand. For a moment, his grief was forgotten in favor of annoyance - that gun was  _very_ expensive.

"Absolutely not," Roderich snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself."

The pain came rushing back at Roderich's words, and Vash flinched as if physically wounded. "That's none of your business," he snarled miserably. "Just leave me alone."

"It became my business the moment I walked into your house to find you with a gun in your mouth," Roderich insisted. His tone was angry, but his eyes were soft.

"I never asked you to come here. In fact, I don't even understand what you're doing here Roderich," Vash retorted. Roderich blinked a few times, unsure if Vash was aware that he had just echoed the words of their reunion.

"You were gone for a week, and I thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to check on you. And it's a good thing I did, too," he said, gesturing to the gun with his free hand. Vash stared at him, once again stunned. Did Roderich not know?

"Maybe I had a good reason to want to be alone," Vash snapped hoarsely, the hurt in his chest flaring up again. He scowled when Roderich gave him a questioning look. "And that reason hasn't changed, so get out of my house."

"I'm not leaving you in a house full of guns when you just had one in your mouth," Roderich shot back, looking almost indignant that Vash would suggest such a thing. Vash's mouth formed a hard line.

"Roderich. I said leave."

"No." Roderich gave the best "I'm staying get over it" glare he could muster. Much to his surprise, Vash's eyes began to water.

"Please," he rasped. "Just go." His shoulders were shaking violently, and he bowed his head before Roderich could see the first tear fall. Something inside Roderich broke a little as he saw this, his heart going out to his best friend of long ago. In all their years of friendship, he had never seen Vash cry.

Roderich hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on Vash's shoulder. Unsurprisingly, the blond swatted it away angrily, although whatever angry comment Vash had made along with it had been swallowed up by sobbing. "Vash," Roderich began gently. "What happened?"

Vash only sobbed harder. Roderich repeated the question, holding himself awkwardly rigid at a safe distance from the other man. He was so completely out of his element here being the giver rather than the receiver of comfort. In all his memories of their childhood, Roderich could only ever remember Vash helping  _him_  recover from wounds both physical and emotional, not the other way around.

"Lili…" Vash groaned brokenly after several more moments of crying. Roderich's heart skipped a beat. Suddenly it all made sense. The empty, destroyed house, Vash's unwillingness to live.

Lili had been his life.

"I am so sorry Vash," Roderich told him in a hollow voice, feeling on the verge of tears himself. How could sweet little Lili be dead?

"It doesn't matter if you're sorry," Vash said suddenly, his tone cutting. "It won't bring her back." Roderich stared at Vash silently, at a loss for words. "I don't want to live without her," Vash added darkly, his voice trembling.

"Now you listen here Vash," Roderich commanded, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing his head up to look at him. "You know as well as I do Lili wouldn't want this for you."

"Everyone claims to know what she would have wanted," Vash grumbled bitterly, trying to shrug off Roderich's grasping hands.

"Yeah, well everyone is probably right," Roderich informed him. Vash opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Looking up at Roderich, his heart twisted in a way he had never experienced before, and the fire in his chest abated ever so slightly. "You aren't thinking straight. C'mon, let's get you out of this infernal death room."

"It's a gun workshop," Vash shot back, but his words lacked bite. Mutely he allowed Roderich to help him to his feet, his body still shaking and his chest still burning. Once he was standing, he gave Roderich his best confident look and tried his best to speak levelly.

"I'm not going to kill myself. You can go now." Roderich stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I am not leaving you here like this. This house is full of danger, and oh my God what happened to your hand?" Roderich's eyes had roamed downwards and come to rest on the bloody mess hanging limp at Vash's side. The appendage was grossly swollen, mottled with bruises and stained with blood, much to Roderich's disgust.

"I punched a mirror," Vash told him, blunt as ever. "And a wall." Roderich shook his head in disbelief.

"I am not leaving until you let me take care of that, at least," he told him, grabbing Vash's bicep and towing him out of the room in an uncharacteristically assertive manner.

"Don't be ridiculous. You hate blood," Vash reminded him angrily. At the back of his mind, he half-realized that his grief was lessening with each step he took with Roderich.

Roderich sat Vash down in the large downstairs bathroom without a word, pulling down the first aid kit that had remained there since the time of scraped knees and skinned elbows from the medicine cabinet. He watched Vash's face carefully as he took out tweezers and began to painstakingly pull tiny shards of glass from his flesh, disinfecting as he went. To his credit, Vash looked like he was faring better than Roderich through the ordeal, hissing occasionally with pain as the latter fought back nausea as he worked. Roderich could have sworn his  _heart_ hurt as he removed shard after shard from the wounds, aching for Vash's pain. He wanted nothing more than to make everything better for Vash, but how?

Vash stared dumbly down at Roderich as he wrapped his swollen hand in a snowy white cloth and instructed him to go see a doctor as soon as possible. He could not fathom why Roderich was being so kind to him. He had abandoned Vash at his lowest point - rather, his lowest then, which was nothing compared to the pits of hell in which he currently resided - so why was he suddenly trying so hard? Vash's grief muddled mind could not come up with an answer, so he settled on his default; it didn't matter what Roderich was doing this for. He just wanted to be alone.

"You can go now," Vash told Roderich after his hand was fully bandaged, pulling it back to examine it. For someone who usually vomited at the sight of blood, the musician had done a surprisingly good job. Roderich looked up at him, hurt written all over his face, and for a moment Vash questioned why he was so keen on sending this man away. After all, the blazing hurt had faded while they were together.

 _I don't need this right now,_ Vash reminded himself. Roderich was an irritating aristocrat, a friend who had abandoned him, a source of false comfort. Who cared if Roderich had soothed his pain? Grief was worth suffering alone if it meant he could avoid risking a second betrayal from his old friend.

"Vash…" Roderich began, his eyes welling up. Vash's resolve wavered yet again as he took in the unabashed sorrow on Roderich's face, but only for a moment. Roderich didn't deserve to feel sorrow. Roderich didn't have a dead sister.

"You can take the guns with you for all I care, I just want to be alone!" Vash shouted, suddenly angry. Who was Roderich to come here and try to care for him now, after so many years of leaving him to struggle by himself? Vash was better off alone. He always had been.

"Vash please, I just want to help you…" Roderich protested imploringly. His entire body was pleading, from the look in his eyes to the clasped hands he held before his chest. Vash grew angrier.

"Get out," he growled.

Roderich gave him one last beseeching glance before standing. His expression quickly transformed into a mask of perfect neutrality, a device Vash had not seen anyone but himself use in ages. "I'm going to take the guns," Roderich informed him, his voice just as controlled as his face. "Take care of yourself."

With that, Roderich turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Vash alone in empty silence. The hurt that had been held at bay by Roderich's presence rushed forward to embrace him as the other man left the room, and Vash almost fell over from the weight of it. Unable to move in his grief, Vash simply lay back on the floor, sobbing quietly and clutching his bandaged hand to his chest.

In the other room, Roderich had emptied Vash's thankfully undamaged backpack of books and begun packing the numerous weapons into it. He had no idea how to check if they were going to randomly fire or blow up, so he handled them all with excessive caution, wrapping each one in torn tapestry shreds before placing them in the bag. The weapons certainly terrified him, but the idea of coming back to the house to find Vash with a hole in his skull scared him even more. Thus, he quelled his anxious trembling and packed up everything dangerous he could find in the workshop, ensuring Vash's safety.

Roderich paused briefly as he reached the front door on his way out. The guns weighed heavily on him in the backpack, reminding him of why he had come here in the first place. He turned around to face the foyer and cast a mournful glance around at the damaged space, his heart heavy with guilt.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help more," Roderich said to no one in particular, and he was. So deeply sorry that he had been so useless, so helpless to comfort Vash at his time of greatest need.

He would come back, he decided, turning again to face the door. His mission had been to salvage their friendship, and he was sure that Vash needed a friend now more than ever. Roderich exited the house with a heavy heart and a racing mind - he needed a plan to fix this.

Inside the house, Vash lay in stunned silence on the bathroom floor. Roderich's voice, hollow and mournful, washed over him for the briefest moment, assuaging his pain and easing his suffering. Roderich was sorry. Vash considered this notion for several seconds, staring at the ceiling as if it would give him answers. Then, he heard the front door swing shut, and reality came crashing back down like a ton of bricks. Overwhelmed, he drew himself up into a small ball on the cool tiles of the floor and began to sob, his entire body quaking with grief.

He stayed like that for a very long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roderich is trying his hardest to prove Vash he’s there to help, but a barrier from the past separates them in a way he cannot hope to overcome on his own. However, when the pair confront their falling out head on, Vash walks away feeling even less sure of his world than before

Roderich started to make a point to walk by Vash's house on the way home from class. Even with Vash's guns stored safely at Liz's – he couldn't bear to have them in his apartment, even under lock and key – he worried for his old friend's safety. He had tried the day after their first encounter to contact Vash again to give him their school notes, which he had forgotten to share in his flurry to get the guns out of the house, only to have the door slammed solidly in his face. Roderich had blinked a few times before slipping the notes into Vash's mailbox, refusing to let Vash's hostility ruin his gentlemanly conduct. After all, Vash needed it now more than ever. The next day, it appeared that the notes had been brought inside.

Thus, every evening at five, Roderich strolled past Vash's house, his keen musician's ear trained on the house to see if he could pick up on any further rampaging going on within. Vash had still not returned to class, meaning Roderich's only chance to see if he was even still alive was to see the lights on in the Zwingli house. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Roderich also dropped a copy of the day's class notes in Vash's mailbox. They were always gone by the following day. That in itself was reassuring enough to encouraged Roderich to continue his efforts, even if the comfort the disappearing notes gave him was a small one. It was a somewhat taxing endeavor, and one that into his precious practice time with his piano no less, but it made him feel better about the situation. Even if Vash would not allow him to help directly, he could at least keep an eye on him.

It took Roderich about a week to notice that someone else was frequenting Vash's neighborhood on a nightly basis. Every night, also at five, a white car would pull up in front of Vash's house and a tall man would get out bearing a large brown paper bag. It took Roderich getting there a few minutes late one day and seeing the man knock at the door to realize that he was probably a deliveryman. He paused about thirty yards before Vash's home and watched the stranger ring the doorbell with his heart in his throat. Sure enough, the door swung open to reveal Vash's small frame standing in the entryway. Warmth flooded his chest as he watched the small blond reach into his pocket and pull out a few bills to hand to the man. It was such a relief to see him again, Roderich thought. Money and a paper bag changed hands, and before Roderich knew it the door had swung shut again, leaving Vash sadly out of his reach.

Roderich frowned slightly as he walked the rest of the way home, considering what he had seen. If the white car he had seen every day had belonged to the deliveryman, it meant Vash would have been ordering food for at least a week and a half. He knew Vash, and he knew that Vash normally would never,  _ever,_ pay for takeout if he could save money by eating at home. He must have been in pretty bad shape if he couldn't even bring himself to cook, especially if that meant spending money.

 _I'll pay tomorrow,_ Roderich decided. He wasn't sure why he had felt so unbelievably warm when he had seen Vash silhouetted in the doorway, but he knew he wanted to feel that way again. Besides, it had been far too long since he had properly checked in with Vash, something that been weighing heavily on his conscience. He had wanted to go and talk to him all week, but could not work up the courage to risk having the door slammed in his face again. He knew that Vash was grieving and his actions were far from his own, but it had still hurt. If Roderich came with a peace offering, however – especially one that saved him money – Vash was likely to be much more receptive to his attempts at diplomacy.

Thus, after an awkward explanation the next evening to the deliveryman about why he should be allowed to buy Vash's food and deliver it himself, Roderich found himself standing at Vash's front door. Bracing himself with a deep breath, he knocked delicately on the hard wood. It occurred to him as he allowed his hand to fall to his side that he had never actually asked to enter the Zwingli household in this way before. He had usuallt been dragged inside by the hand, towed along by Vash for one reason or another into the house. On the occasions Vash hasn't been dragging him, he had been carrying him after a fight, reprimanding him as they went about how he was a terrible fighter and should practice more. Roderich smiled slightly at the memory of being carried piggy back into the house, Vash joking about brain damage after Roderich had been dumped painfully on his butt by a rowdy young Liz. Those had been simpler, happier times. He missed them.

Roderich was startled out of his reminiscence as the door swung open to reveal a very surprised Vash. Roderich was sad to notice that Vash's eyes, which were wide with shock, were also heavily ringed with exhaustion, and his face was pale and haggard. His usual neat green waistcoat had been exchanged for a raggedy, over sized hoodie that Roderich both had never seen before and did not like on him. Vash was supposed to be well groomed even when laboring in his workshop, not lounging around in grungy clothes like a stereotypical college kid. He was better than that, Roderich thought insistently.

"I don't understand what you're doing here Roderich," Vash muttered, eyeing him warily. "And why do you have my food?"

"That seems to be your favorite thing to say whenever you see me," Roderich commented wryly. "But no matter. I have your food because I paid for it for you. May I come in?"

The indecision was clear on Vash's face, and for a moment Roderich worried he might be shut out for a second time. However, the prospect of a free meal eventually seemed to win out over the idea of kicking Roderich out and ordering out for a second time in one evening as Vash stepped back and indicated that Roderich enter. Roderich heaved a sigh of relief and entered the house, gratefully allowing the heat wash over him as he pulled off his woolen autumn coat and toed out of his shoes. Another warmth filled him from the inside as he followed Vash to the kitchen, taking in the other man's movements as he walked. He had missed seeing him, Roderich realized belatedly as they came to stand on the cool tile floor.

"I have enough food to share, but it means I will have less for lunch tomorrow," Vash said, reaching up to take two plates down from the counter. Roderich had not even taken into account the possibility of Vash actually offering to eat with him, and the heat in his chest bloomed even further at the offer. The condition at the end of Vash's sentence, however, gave him pause.

"You won't have enough for lunch?" Roderich repeated. Surely Vash wasn't eating only takeout.

Vash nodded. "Although since you paid I suppose I cannot hold that against you. You deserve your share."  _Ah, so that's it_ , Roderich thought somewhat glumly. Vash had not wanted him to stay; he had only felt duty bound due to a perceived debt. Roderich shook his head.

"I have food at home. Although I would appreciate it if you would allow me to stay and warm up a bit – it's pretty chilly out there, and I always take longer than I should to get home." It was true that Roderich tended to get lost, and that the crisp fall air was more than his delicate constitution could usually take, but Roderich was sure that Vash could see the real reason he wanted to stay. He could only hope that the other man would allow it.

Much to his surprise, Vash gave a grunt of assent and put the plates away. Roderich watched in open confusion as he opened the brown bag and pulled out a container and a pair of chopsticks. Vash usually hated food that hadn't come from his native Switzerland, even going so far as to snub some American foods despite being away from his home country since he was five. Things must have been pretty bad if he was ordering Chinese food.

Vash watched Roderich warily as he ate his noodles, able to read every expression that flickered across his pale face. He knew that the man was concerned for him, but why? It wasn't like they were friends anymore. Roderich had burned that bridge a long time ago when he had broken his promise to write home after he left Austria. Anyways, Vash had made it pretty clear that he wanted to be  _alone._

Yet he could not deny that the dull ache that had filled his chest since Roderich had left with his guns twelve days ago had eased slightly since Roderich had entered the house. Roderich hadn't balked at the fact that the house still looked as if a hurricane had run though it, hadn't asked after his emotional wellbeing, hadn't demanded that he had been allowed to stay after paying for dinner. Instead, he had simply offered a silent offering of kindness and temporary companionship in a way that didn't offend Vash's pride. While he still had a hard time fully trusting Roderich, he would be a liar if he said he didn't appreciate his efforts. Even if it was somewhat grudgingly.

Even so, Vash was still surprised to hear himself inviting Roderich to come sit in the dining room with him while he finished the evening meal. If he'd been asked, he would have told Roderich that he simply felt it rude to keep someone who had bought him dinner standing while he ate. However, Roderich's only reaction was a slight widening of those strange violet eyes that showed that he was just as caught off guard as Vash himself. Internally, Vash was a little relieved when he realized that Roderich wasn't going to question him – it saved him from having to lie.

They moved to the dining room table, where they sat in what Vash was hesitant to call companionable silence as he ate his food and Roderich sat staring off into the distance. As usual, Vash could decipher each little expression on Roderich's face, and frowned slightly as he recognized affection, confusion, and sorrow flash across those delicate features. Before he could think too much on them, however, Roderich spoke up.

"Why do you keep these flowers on the table? They're rotting," he said, gesturing to the glass in the center of the table. Vash stiffened. Roderich, seemingly oblivious for once to Vash's reaction, reached out for the makeshift vase. "I could toss them on my way out, I'll even buy you new-"

Vash stood with a loud clatter of chair on hardwood floor and smacked Roderich's hand back. The cracking sound of skin on skin split the air, and for a moment Vash's heart dropped like it tended to when he had made a terrible mistake.

Then Roderich drew his hand back and cradled it to his chest as if he were wounded, and it reminded Vash so much of how Lili had held her hand over supper so many weeks ago that he could not help but despair. Hot rage filled him as he stared at Roderich's stricken expression, and he began to tremble violently. This was why he wanted solitude,  _this_  was why he shouldn't trust Roderich – he always would end up betraying him. Leaving him, saving him when he hadn't wanted to be saved, trying to rid him of Lili's last gift and reminding him so much of her with his damnable kindness and mannerisms… It was too much for Vash to bear.

"Get out," he growled darkly. Roderich's eyes widened, and his thin lips parted slightly and then closed as if he was going to say something but then decided against it. Vash remained stubbornly in place as Roderich got to his feet and moved to collect his coat and shoes from the foyer. It was not until he had heard the heavy slam of the door closing that Vash allowed himself to cry.

"Damn it," he sobbed, sinking to his knees. The ache in his chest was back even hotter and more insistent than before, and half of him wanted to run to the front door and beg Roderich to come back just because he had soothed some of his agony. However, Vash's stubborn pride would never allow for such things, and deep in his heart, buried just as far down as his grief, was a fear that if he asked Roderich for help, the other man would simply turn him away as he had so many years ago.

He had no idea how long he spent sobbing on the floor, only that by the time he had finally cried himself out, he felt empty.

Back in his own apartment, Roderich was worrying himself sick. He knew he had erred yet again in his relationship with Vash, but just as in all previous times he was unsure of  _how_. He had bought the food, he had kept dutifully silent about the disturbing state of Vash's house, he had even offered companionship in a way that Vash would not feel like Roderich was babying him! Despite the last part being for his own benefit as much as for Vash's, Roderich felt that his efforts had been worth a little bit of confidence on Vash's part. However, there was no mistaking the look he had seen in those leaf green eyes, veiled behind the blaze of grieving anger – distrust.

 _What more can I do?_ Roderich wondered sadly, wandering into his kitchen for the fifth time that evening. He had a tendency to pace when nervous, something that caused him trouble when he became anxious in unfamiliar areas. In the safety of his home, however, it allowed him to release some of his worried energy. He looked around the room desperately, as if the pots hanging from the fixture on the wall would give him some sort of answer playing the piano for two hours had not. It had been three and a half hours since he had left the Zwingli house, and he had yet to figure out how to prove to Vash that he really deserved his faith.

If he was being honest, Roderich didn't know exactly why he was trying so hard. The initial goal of reviving a childhood friendship seemed too small to justify walking by Vash's house every day and now agonizing over how best to win him over. Even the knowledge that Vash desperately needed someone right now didn't quite explain why Roderich, an acquaintance of Vash's at best, was going so far out of his way to ensure his health and wellbeing. Perhaps it had something to do with that faint glow of warmth he felt within him whenever he saw Vash, Roderich thought as he came to stand before his stove. He shifted his weight between his feet as he stared at the appliance, searching for answers. He couldn't quite identify what that warmth was, but it certainly was compelling.

"What can I do, what can I do…" Roderich murmured to himself, turning and making his way over to the fridge. He pulled the door open in search of supper for himself, having skipped the meal in his preoccupation with Vash, only to be struck by the opportunity presented to him as he realized the ingredients he had.  _Cheese, cream, onions, bacon, and I'm sure I have potatoes and noodles… I can make Älplermagronen!_ The Swiss dish, an old favorite of Vash's, was a perfect way to win Vash over, Roderich realized. Plus making dinner saved money for both Vash  _and_ Roderich, making it a double victory for the frugal Austrian.

 _I will apply my creative genius to make the most delicious meal Vash has ever tasted!_  Roderich thought triumphantly, his own dinner forgotten as he rushed around the kitchen pulling ingredients and utensils from various cabinets.  _Let's see Vash turn this down._

Despite all of his confidence when he had made the dish, Roderich found himself squirming as he waited at Vash's front door the following day. He had cut his last class of the day in order to go home, grab the food, and make it to Vash's house before he would have ordered his Chinese with ease, so why was knocking on his door so hard? Roderich's usual cool musician's haughtiness did not serve him with Vash, leaving him on shaky footing especially now that he had had his kindness thrown in his face on three separate occasions. Gentleman Roderich was, he knew he had to persevere in the face of adversity for the good of his mission for friendship, but that didn't mean it was easy for him.

Just as he was considering turning and leaving without even knocking, the door swung open, revealing a very disheveled Vash. Green eyes widened, and thin blond brows furrowed above them as Vash recognized the man before him.

"You're not the mailman," Vash stated, his tone much flatter than his facial expression would have led Roderich to expect. Warmth filled Roderich as he took in Vash's gaunt face and small frame, reminding him why he was there in the first place.  _I can do this._

"Correct," Roderich affirmed, steeling himself. "I'm the deliveryman for the evening, actually." He offered up the foil-covered pan in his gloved hands. "It should be enough for you to have it for lunch tomorrow as well."

Vash eyed the container warily. "What is that?" he asked. Roderich could see that the other man was very clearly caught off guard and struggling with forming a reaction to the situation. It was the perfect time to assert his trustworthiness.

"Älplermagronen, a Swiss recipe," Roderich replied dutifully, careful to keep his usual arrogance out of his voice. He knew if Vash caught even a hint of anything suspicious or rude in his current vulnerable state, he was liable to kick Roderich out again.

Vash raised his eyebrows, looking even more surprised than before. Roderich took his chance.

"There's enough for two to have supper and still have leftovers," he offered hesitantly. Vash visibly stiffened, and Roderich's heart began to pound anxiously.  _This is a mistake, I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be bothering him, why did I even come…_ Nervous thoughts flew through Roderich's head at a rate that they hadn't since his first piano recital twelve years ago, and he fought to keep his anxiety from his face, knowing full well that Vash could read him like a book if he tried.

Vash was, as a matter of fact, reading Roderich's facial expressions as they grew subtly more panicked with each passing second. He could only hope that the struggle for control that he could see across the other's visage was enough to keep Roderich from noticing his own minute expressions of conflict. After their encounter yesterday, Vash's first instinct was of course to slam the door in Roderich's face after a few choice words about leaving him the hell alone. However, the dish in Roderich's hand and the look on his face made it almost painfully obvious that his intentions were just about as good as they could possibly be, no matter how much Vash wished they weren't _. This would be so much easier if he wasn't so nice,_ he decided _._

"Well come in then, you know where the plates are. You can set the table while I put the food in to heat," Vash said, reaching out to take the pan from Roderich's hands. Their hands brushed briefly as Vash lifted the dish, separated only by the thin fabric of Roderich's gloves. The resulting jolt of electricity that it sent through his body was enough to bring a hot flush to his face.  _Maybe this isn't the best idea,_ Vash thought to himself as he led Roderich into the house. He knew he couldn't trust Roderich, so why was letting him in when he clearly had some mysterious ability to affect Vash a good course of action? He didn't know, but the idea of turning around and shoving the other man back out the door made Vash's heart twist in a way he didn't like, so he decided to ignore his conflicted thoughts and keep walking forward.

They worked in quiet independence of each other to get the food on the table, giving Vash more than enough time to collect himself properly. Having never been one for beating around the bush, he decided the best way to deal with Roderich and the weird feelings he got around him was simply to confront him. If he got answers about why Roderich had abandoned him so long ago, Vash reasoned, perhaps he could take his old friend up on his kindness. After all, no matter how much he was loathe to admit it, he felt better when Roderich was around. If Roderich could not explain himself, well, then Vash was perfectly fine with remaining in solitude. It was how he had spent most of his life.

"Why are you doing this?" Vash asked over dinner, breaking the somewhat awkward silence that had fallen over them since they had sat down to eat. Roderich looked up at Vash, his mouth still full of noodles but clearly prepared to answer. He swallowed hurriedly before fixing Vash with a stern glare.

"Not even a thank you first?" he intoned. Vash bristled as he saw irritation flash in Roderich's eyes. However, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, replaced with the kindness and tranquil patience that he had been wearing since he had begun his dogged efforts to rekindle their friendship ages ago. If anything, it only served to make Vash even more prickly.

"Why are you doing this?" he repeated. He could tell Roderich's control was slipping by the dumbfounded look on his face, which only encouraged him. He wanted Roderich to flounder, to admit that he was in fact being selfish as he had been so long ago. Anything to justify the distrust he was feeling in the face of the comfort Roderich had brought.

Roderich blushed. "I just… wanted to be friends again." Something about the way he said it gave Vash pause. He sounded so vulnerable, so unsure, so weak, as he had far too many times in their childhood. Usually when he sounded like that, he had come to Vash for help. Now he had the audacity to make it sound like Vash was the one making him hurt.

"Be friends again?" Vash spat, feeling heat flare in his chest and rise to his face. "After you abandoned me to go to your precious music school in Austria?" Roderich's face went white, and for the first time in years Vash could see anger beginning to spark in his violet eyes.

"After  _I_ abandoned  _you?"_ Roderich sputtered, two red spots forming on his cheeks. "I wrote home every  _week_ for six  _months_ and you never once deigned to answer me. I was alone in a new country and a new school and my  _best friend_ couldn't even be bothered to write." He was shaking now, and if Vash didn't know him so well he would have said he looked ready to punch someone. "For God's sake,  _Liz_ stayed in contact better than you, and she beat me up for the better part of middle school! And then when I come back and try to rekindle the friendship that clearly meant  _nothing_ to you, you act as if you are some kind of  _victim?_ "

Vash recoiled as if slapped. "You're lying," he breathed. "You never wrote me. Not even once."

"I wrote  _twenty six_  letters _,"_ Roderich hissed, his eyes narrowing. "It took me  _twenty six_ tries before I finally accepted you had given up on me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? At least have the decency to admit that you destroyed our friendship."

"Then where did the letters go, Roderich? If you were so damn dedicated why the hell didn't I get a single letter?" Vash demanded, getting to his feet. Half of him desperately wanted to believe Roderich, who was staring up at him with a mix of pleading and indignant anger. It would be so simple, so blissfully easy, if Roderich was telling the truth. Even if they couldn't pick up where they left off, the chasm between them would shrink exponentially, and perhaps Vash could even come to let him in again.

But Vash knew things were rarely that easy.

"I don't know," Roderich whispered. His expression had gone dead in a matter of moments, and the angry flush had faded from his cheeks. "I wish I did. I wish I could find each and every one of them and put them on the table and show you how much I cared back then." His voice dropped even lower, until Vash could barely hear his final words. "How much I still care."

Vash fell back into his chair with a heavy thud, stunned into silence. For the first time in weeks, the dull ache of grief in his chest was completely gone, replaced by a churning mix of emotions that he had neither the will nor the ability to identify at the moment. His limbs felt heavy with the sudden weight of the new information, and his whole body seemed to sag beneath it. He hung his head, allowing his bangs to fall into his face and shield his expression. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Roderich staring at him in concern.

"Is it really true?" Vash asked finally, after what had seemed like an age of tense silence. He raised his head slightly to look Roderich straight in the eye, his expression almost daring the other man to lie to him. Roderich gave a slight nod.

Vash wasn't sure if his world had come crashing down or lit up, but either way he knew that his reality had changed. He had someone who cared, who hadn't betrayed him.

The idea elated and terrified him.

"I… need time to think," he rasped, his eyes never leaving Roderich's. He could only hope that Roderich could read the conflict in his face, the confusion in his eyes. Much to his relief, he saw understanding wash over his delicate face, and could not help but feel his heart warm as the brunette gave him a slight smile.

"Take all the time you need," he said, standing. "I take it you can take care of the rest of dinner?" He gestured to the table before him. Vash nodded.

"Of course," Vash replied from his seat. He still felt too heavy to move. "Will you… come back tomorrow?" he asked, quietly. He winced slightly at the insecurity he could hear in his own voice, but if Roderich had not betrayed him what did he have to worry about? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't bring himself to be confident just yet.

"Do you want me to?" Roderich asked quietly. It struck Vash that Roderich had been forcing himself into his life without really asking, and yet he could not bring himself to resent the intrusion as he normally would. However, admitting to wanting the other around was still a little beyond him, what with his tendency towards solitude, so he simply stared. Roderich, seemingly realizing he wasn't going to get an answer, simply nodded.

"Very well then," he said simply, and then went to gather his things from the front hall. Vash remained in quiet stillness as he heard Roderich fuss with his various clothes, internally rolling his eyes at how overdressed the aristocrat was for the weather.

It was not until he had left that Vash released the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Roderich was gone, and he had no idea if he was going to come back. It was quite possible he might not return, Vash realized, unless he sought him out himself.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to do that just yet.

With a heavy sigh, Vash stood and began gathering the dishes off the table.  _I'll figure it out,_ he thought to himself as he moved to pick Roderich's half-empty plate. He realized with a start that he was able to reach it without bumping into anything - he was missing the table's customary centerpiece. His head jerked up, his eyes scanning desperately for the glass and its rotting contents.  _This is what I get for trusting him,_ Vash thought bitterly as he looked for the dying flowers.  _He's just a lying, no-good… oh._

Vash's eyes settled on the glass, which was standing amongst a pile of shattered glass on the mantle of the fireplace. Roderich hadn't taken the lilies away at all, he marveled, only moved them to a better place.

The plate in his hand slipped from his grasp and clattered loudly back onto the table. He stood staring at the makeshift vase, deep in thought for several minutes as he tried to sort out his feelings.

He finally decided there was only one emotion he was sure of – want. He wanted Roderich to come back tomorrow. That thought settled, he returned to motion and began to clear the table so he could go to bed peacefully.

He had some more soul searching to do.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the wait on this one**  - **I have been out of town. As always, I would really appreciate it if you guys left reviews! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to some mood music while writing this, so if you care to get into my creative space while you read, first play Chopin's Ballade No. 4, then Durufle's "Ubi Caritas et Amor." Enjoy!

The nights since Lili's death had been difficult ones. The shadows of his bedroom bore witness to his pathetic crying and unsuccessful attempts at slumber as he was plagued by dark thoughts and insistent memories night after night. He often spent hours simply staring at the ceiling, his hand pressed to his bare chest as if the pressure would soothe his aching heart. He ignored the heat of the tears streaking down his cheeks, allowing them to soak through his pillow until he had to either flip it over or toss it away completely. On some nights he would go and stand at Lili's door, listening for movement as if she had somehow magically returned to him in the night.

No matter how long he waited there, he never opened the door.

Last night, however, instead of being consumed entirely by anguished grief, Vash was filled to the brim with a churning tempest of dark emotions. He rolled back and forth in bed, kicking off his covers in frustration as he cursed himself, cursed Roderich, cursed the world, cursed everything for his torment. When he went to stand by Lili's door, he found himself unable to remain upright. Instead, he spent hours curled in a ball in front of the heavy expanse of oak. As he lay there, small and vulnerable, he asked the door questions as he would have his own sister, always the more socially adept one, about what he should do about Roderich. Pretending she could hear him helped ease the pain in his chest. He knew what Lili would have said of course. He knew the little knowing smile and fond-yet-exasperated sigh that she would have given before assuring him that he should make more friends and that Roderich was a perfectly good candidate for friendship. He knew everything except why she wasn't there herself telling him all these things.

By the time Vash had finally managed to return to bed, it was starting to grow light out. This, too, was a normal occurrence. His absence at school was not due to bereavement in the usual sense; it was due to the constant and insistent insomnia that plagued him every evening. He could not face an entire day of school without an ounce of rest, especially not in his constant state of mourning, so he had become accustomed to sleeping the day away. Thus, Vash found himself rather irritated to be jolted out of pleasant drowsiness by an insistent tapping at the door.

Wiping his eyes on his arm - which were still brimming with tears and swollen with exhaustion - Vash swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to stumble down the stairs. Through the fog of exhaustion he found himself wishing that Roderich had not confiscated his guns as he made his way through the mess of the foyer, tripping over broken objects as he went. He would very much to give whoever dared deny him his rest at this hour the scaring of their life, if only because it would be an outlet for the dark emotions he was holding bottled within his heart.

" _What?"_ he demanded as he pulled the door open, hoping that his angry scowl would draw attention from his clearly tearful eyes. Any further angry demands, however, died on his lips as he spotted Roderich - hopeful, surprised Roderich who was standing in the door silhouetted by morning sun and clutching….

Vash's heart skipped a beat.

Roderich was stunned. Looking at Vash, he was sure he had only seen him this upset the day he had found him with the gun in his mouth, and the knowledge made his heart hurt. Vash's eyes were red and puffy, and his entire posture spoke to a deep exhaustion that Roderich could not even begin to imagine. Guilt struck him like a knife to the chest. He was supposed to be helping Vash, he was supposed to be fixing this. Yet he still looked as broken as he had on the very first day.

"Uh, well, I…" he began, suddenly unsure of what to say. He was sure that the look his old friend had given him the previous night had indicated that he should return, but Vash's angry scowl made him doubt everything he had previously thought. Perhaps this was wrong, perhaps Vash never wanted to see him again, perhaps he should just leave and never come back. The gifts he held in his hands felt suddenly heavy, as if they were weighed down by the doubt that they should have ever existed. It was only the desire to sooth the pain that he saw in those puffy, tired eyes that kept him anchored to the doorstep.

Vash, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. "What are those?" he croaked, gesturing to the bundle in Roderich's hand. He knew perfectly well what they were, but part of him wanted to hear it with his own ears. They were envelopes, and without even counting them he knew in the depths of heart that there were twenty six of them.

"Nevermind these," Roderich said, clutching the letters to his chest. His eyes shone with defiance. "You're more important. Did you sleep at all last night?"

Vash stared at the other man critically, fighting hard to ignore the warmth that was rapidly spreading through his chest. There was something off about Roderich today beyond the fact that he was at Vash's house at eight in the morning, and it did not take long for him to figure out what.

"Did  _I_  sleep?" he retorted, crossing his arms defensively. "I think the better question would be did you?" This, too, he knew the answer to just by taking in the scene before him. Vash was sure that looking at Roderich was in fact akin to looking in a mirror - the musician's physical exhaustion and emotional weariness was written all over his face.

Roderich colored slightly. "No," he admitted. "But that's not important, I can sleep after rehearsal today. And  _I_ sleep on a regular basis." He gave Vash a pointed look.

"My sleeping habits are none of your business," Vash grumbled, ducking his head to hide the heat he could feel rising to his cheeks. He was touched by Roderich's concern, even if it was somewhat gruffly administered. However, a long sleepless night and insecurity had made him prickly, so he did his best to hide his gratitude. "Why are you even here? It's seven in the morning."

"I have rehearsal at eight and it goes all day. Literally. This was the only time I could come see you," Roderich replied, his eyes pleading.  _Let me in,_ his expression begged.

"I didn't ask you to come," Vash grumbled. He had  _wanted_ Roderich to return, but he didn't have to say that aloud. The vulnerability in Roderich's face was making him uncomfortable.

Roderich sighed. "You should really give me a chance sometimes you know. I promise I'm not here to make your life miserable." Vash's head shot up.

 _You really should give him a chance you know._ Lili's voice rang in his head, clearer than he had ever heard it since her death. For a moment, it was all he could do to stare at Roderich as tears began to well up in his eyes. Clearly caught off guard, Roderich merely stood in silent stillness as Vash gazed up at him, a rainbow emotions playing across his delicate face as he debated with himself about how best to handle the situation. Vash took Roderich's state of inaction as an opportunity to truly examine the letters he had nestled in the crook of his elbow, tied together into a bundle by a long piece of violet ribbon. While he had no doubt that they were not the originals, that somehow did not matter to him. There, standing before him, was the proof he needed that maybe, just maybe, Roderich was worth trusting after all.

"Did you really stay up all night writing those?" Vash asked, gesturing to the letters. Roderich looked as if he was going to give an indignant reply but thought better of it, instead merely nodding. Something uncoiled in Vash's chest, and in response he angled his body so the doorway was unblocked.

"Come in," Vash replied, unable to properly verbalize what he was feeling. He could only hope that Roderich could read what he could not say in his face, as he always had when they were children. Roderich's eyes widened, and Vash could not help but notice a faint smile dance across the musician's thin lips as he crossed into the house.

Roderich paused only a few paces into the foyer, turning to look Vash in the eye. There was a steely determination there that Vash had not seen before. It had completely replaced the quiet insecurity that had been written all over his face just minutes earlier, and Vash was not sure how he felt about it. In the confusion his life had become, the only thing he was truly sure about now was how strangely warm he had felt since he had seen Roderich's bundle of letters.

"These are for you," Roderich said, nudging the collection of envelopes with his free hand. Vash's heart leapt at the confirmation of his suspicions, but he fought to keep his joy from his face. He wasn't quite comfortable with that level of openness yet. "But-"

"What do you mean but?" Vash demanded, the warmth in his chest suddenly blazing to the familiar heat of anger. His usual defensive barrier of rage had returned full force, driving his mind into anxious over drive and protecting him from the strange vulnerability that Roderich's gesture had made him feel. Who did Roderich think he was, putting conditions on the symbol of their friendship, on his own gesture of kindness? What was he-

"But I don't want you to open them just yet. Please. I want you to be well rested and calm when you read them." Vash's angry thoughts halted in their tracks, and his fury cooled. There Roderich was, trying to be helpful and kind and infuriatingly caring. Yet instead of his usual prickliness, Vash could only bring himself to feel deeply grateful towards the other man. Clearly encouraged by Vash's response, Roderich continued. "Please Vash, go to bed. The letters will be here when you wake up, and I will return soon." There was pleading in his eyes and in his voice, and Vash found himself with no choice but to give a grunt of assent. Giving Roderich his best "I don't know how to say thank you but I want you to know I'm grateful" look, he turned and made his way up the stairs. He heard a faint sound of moving objects and rustling of papers downstairs but thought little of it as he sank into bed, overcome with exhaustion and for once feeling at peace enough to sink quickly into slumber.

Just as sleep was taking him, Vash was sure he heard the sound of Lili's door opening and closing, but could not bring himself back to the realm of wakefulness long enough to question it.

For the first time in a long time, Vash slept soundly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood music: Debussy -- Claire de Lune, Debussy -- Reverie

Vash awoke in the early evening, feeling better rested than he had in a long time. For a few moments as he drifted on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, he felt light in a way he had not for what felt like an eternity. The remnants of whatever hazy dream he had been having carried him peacefully back to reality, and he woke up with the faintest recollection of a beautiful melody playing gently in the sweet upper registers of a piano. When his eyes fluttered open, he found himself bathed in the golden light of the setting sun streaming through his window. Swathed in blankets, awash in sunlight and lost in the nostalgia of the distantly remembered melody, he experienced a few blissful moments of peace.

Despite doing his best to revel in the glory of finally being free of the weight in his chest, it did not last long. Reality slammed back down on him like a ton of bricks and the ache of grief yawned in his chest as if it too were awakening from a long slumber. Like him, however, it seemed to be still somewhat tired, as it was less insistent and agonizing as it had been in previous days.

He moved sluggishly as he got out of bed, still wrapped in the delicious warmth of tiredness. In his comfortable daze, he barely registered his surroundings as he made his way downstairs in search of something that could assuage the beginnings of hungry rumbling that had began in his stomach. When he entered the dining room however, his awareness returned in a rush as he noticed the presence of a white envelope sitting at the center of the dining room table. Memories of that morning, of Roderich's kindness and the strange reactions it had brought out in him pushed to the forefront of his mind, filling the aching void in his heart with a confused jumble of an unidentifiable warmth and the familiar darkness of suspicion and distrust. He eyed the letter warily, afraid of the possibilities it presented. If he opened those letters, if he opened himself up to Roderich, what guarantee did he have that he wouldn't just leave again?

He had already lost so much, he wasn't sure if he could bear losing a friend a second time.

Despite his misgivings, however, Vash found himself walking towards the envelope and picking it up, feeling the stiff paper between his fingertips as he studied it carefully. This was it, Roderich's promise to him, Roderich's demonstration that he had not in fact abandoned Vash and that he would not do so in the future. Opening it would mean accepting that promise, and trusting that Roderich would keep it. While Vash was not quite sure if he could feel such a deep level of confidence just yet, he could not deny that the emptiness within him was filled when Roderich was around, and that just now it was such a wonderful thing to simply feel whole again. He was willing to make the step, as Roderich had, in the name of that feeling. After all, even if he had not entirely proved himself just yet, didn't the object in his hand show that Roderich deserved a little faith?

He opened the letter with shaking hands, breaking the seal on it with uncharacteristic delicacy even as he smirked slightly at the fact that Roderich still closed his letters with a wax seal. Some things never change, Vash thought with a rueful smile as he pulled the contents out. The paper in his hand was a creamy shade of white and covered in Roderich's looping handwriting, which danced across the paper in spirals and twirls of deep blue ink. Vash took a deep breath and began to read.

_Vash,_

_You know as well as I am how terrible I can be at these 'gesture of friendship' things, so please bear with me. I must admit, when you told me that you had never gotten my letters, I was somewhat relieved. I had not offended you with their contents, you had not chosen to ignore me, you had not decided I was not worth your time. We had been separated without having any say in the matter ourselves, and somehow that makes it easier to palate. Now that the animosity between us has been swept away by the power of truth, I hope that you can allow me to try to earn back your trust and perhaps even the privileged place I once held in your life._

_I miss the days that we spent hours in this house. Those were simpler times, when we could sit and play without a care in the world, or when we were a little older and would hide in your dad's workshop and complain about school. Things aren't so easy anymore, and we can't live yearning for a past we left behind, no matter how much that past meant to us. Scattered around your house I have left the other twenty five letters in places where I have the fondest memories of us, hidden among the remnants of the home you and I both once loved. It is my hope that you can acknowledge the past and the joys and sorrows that it holds… and then move on from it. Pick up the pieces, put them back together, and leave them there. Let the past strengthen you, not break you, and never let it hold you back._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Roderich_

_P.S. I hope to be back to see you soon. There is no rush on reading every letter before I return. Take as much time as you need._

Vash stared down at the page in open shock. He did not know what he had been expecting, but it was certainly not this. The brevity and gentle sentimentality of the letter lent it a poignancy he had not been prepared for, and he knew without a doubt that Roderich had written it with careful consideration for everything that he was. Too much sappiness would have driven him into a defensive frenzy, too much distance would have failed to draw him out of his protective shell. The delicate combination of both qualities instead struck him to the very core. He turned the paper in his hands, marveling at it, only to find that the back, too, bore Roderich's fanciful script, and he found himself with a lump in his throat as he read it.

_My favorite memories of this table are of us playing monopoly together on rainy afternoons. We were both so stingy about our purchases that nothing ever got done, but the game took so long we had hours and hours to just sit and talk, and I liked that. It's usually hard to get you really talking, but if I managed to bring out your competitive edge in the game I could usually bring out other things as well - like your favorite conversation topics. Especially on the days I was beat up in school, having that time to unwind and just talk with my best friend was one of my favorite things in the world._

Sappy idiot, Vash thought to himself, although tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes and warmth was spreading in his heart. Looking up from the letter, he settled his gaze on the dining room table. Despite having been cleared off slightly to accommodate supper with Roderich the previous night, it was still in an obvious state of disarray, covered in broken objects and surrounded by damaged chairs. Although part of him wanted to immediately go search for the rest of the letters, he felt compelled to comply with Roderich's wishes. Leaving the table where he had such cherished memories as a mess not only diminished the brightness of the happy memories he had there, but also forced him to remember the dark ones. Just then, he had no interest in reminding himself of his rampage through the darkness of grief. He wanted to revel in what he was feeling now and move on.

Thus, his original quest for food forgotten, Vash cleaned up the table. He started by simply clearing the broken debris, but quickly found himself hauling the damaged chairs into his workshop and piecing them back together. By the time he had finished and returned the furniture to its rightful place around the dining room table, it was near midnight and Vash was pleasantly exhausted. He had not moved that much since…well, it had been a while, he thought sleepily, trudging back up the stairs. The rest of the letters could wait, he decided as he slipped into bed. He had only been awake for a few hours, but just then he felt he could sleep for an eternity.

That night, he did not wake once before morning.

It took Vash nearly a week to get his way through all of the letters. Each time he discovered one, propped up on top of a pile of debris or buried underneath a mess of torn tapestries, he would throw himself into repairing whatever he could to the best of his ability, throwing out things that he decided were absolutely unsalvageable. It was not until he climbed into bed the following Saturday morning that he realized Roderich had not returned to pay him a visit. In reading his letters, Vash had sort of felt that Roderich was with him as he picked his life back up, and had barely noticed his absence. However, after a week of not seeing the musician in the flesh, Vash was beginning to doubt his decision to allow Roderich back in. What if he had decided that Vash wasn't worth the effort after all, or that Vash was too prickly to deal with, or that he was simply too good to deal with a grieving mess like him?

While Vash was busy worrying himself sick - not that he would ever admit to doing so - Roderich was driving himself into the ground. He had been either studying, taking exams, or rehearsing all week, and was just about at the end of his line by the time Saturday rolled around. Since his all-nighter writing the letters his sleep habits had improved only minimally, with the musician averaging about four hours a night as he frantically tried to get everything he needed taken care of for finals week. In his frantic attempts to take care of himself and his responsibilities, he had finally allowed Vash to slip from the forefront of his mind for the first time in weeks. losing his concern for the other in the whirlwind of his schedule.

Thus, when Roderich finally had a few free moments Saturday morning before he had his dress rehearsal for his recital that evening, he found himself unsure of why he felt he had neglected a responsibility. He ran through his mental list of things he had needed to do, checking off items one by one and growing more confused as he did so. Returned my books, picked up my score from the director, rehearsed with the page turner, studied for my theory test, practiced aural dictation, picked up my dry cleaning, checked on Vash...

Roderich went cold. How on earth had he forgotten to check on Vash? He gathered his things for rehearsal in a matter of moments and stuffed them into his bag before sprinting out the door, his mind running a mile a minute. How was he going to explain to his disappearance? Finals week would have certainly a good reason to withdraw into oneself in most situations, but the fact was that Vash's situation wasn't normal. Vash was vulnerable, hurting, and just when Roderich seemed to have earned his trust he had taken that confidence and thrown it in his face. The lapse in memory was simply unacceptable.

By the time Roderich finally reached Vash's house, he was red faced and out of breath from running. He knocked frantically on the door without any second thought towards his appearance, his desperation making him careless. He waited, chest heaving, for several painfully long moments for the door to open, hoping that Vash would be willing to see him after so much time away. With Vash's tendency towards isolation and defensiveness, Roderich was acutely aware that Vash might very well slam the door in his face.

There was a pounding of feet on the stairs, and then the softer sound of footfalls on the floor of the foyer. Roderich's heart was in his throat. More footsteps, the click of a lock coming undone, and the door swung open.

"Where have you been?" Vash demanded, his hands on his hips and his face faintly red with anger. For a moment, Roderich could not find words. He was transfixed by the man before him, reveling in the sight of him like a man who had been lost in a desert for days and then found water. Something panged deep in his chest, and realized with a rush that he had missed the surly blonde, something he had not been expecting. He scanned Vash up and down, searching for any sign of ill health or injury to discover two things - one, that Vash seemed better rested than he had last Saturday, and two, that Vash had rolled out of bed and come downstairs without a shirt on.

Roderich felt his face heat, and he hastily drew his eyes up to Vash's face. His awe interrupted by sheer embarrassment, he began to babble. "I know I have been gone way too long, and I'm sorry, it's just that it's been finals week and I was asked last minute to be in the university's winter concert because I'm the only freshman with enough repertoire ready for a recital and I've been studying and rehearsing until I can't think anymore and I know that's a bad excuse…" Roderich trailed off as he realized that Vash was staring at him with open confusion. Realizing how he must look, he stood up as straight as he could, adjusted his glasses, and took a deep breath to compose himself. Gentlemen do not ramble on about nonsense, he scolded himself. And it is your job to be a gentleman to Vash. "Uh, ahem. What I meant to say was that I am terribly sorry for my absence this week. There were numerous extenuating circumstances that I could claim as excuses, but in reality I am fully aware that they matter very little. I was wrong not to come this week and I hope you can forgive me."

Vash was speechless.

The sight of Roderich before him, red-faced, flustered and clearly out of his element sent strange jolts of emotion through his body, drowning out the doubts he had been having since he had woken up and shaking him to his core. To complicate things further, Roderich had provided a perfectly acceptable reason why he had been gone for so long, making it impossible for Vash to be entirely angry with him. Beyond that, Roderich had actually apologized for his absence, something that had caught Vash so off guard he could not help but stare blankly at the musician. By the time he had recovered, however, Roderich had returned to his usual prim and proper persona, something Vash was much better equipped to deal with than his upset and guilt ridden one.

Crossing his arms across his bare chest, Vash regarded Roderich warily, unsure of what to make of Roderich's clearly emotional display. If anything, the musician's panicked honesty should have reassured him, should have drawn him closer rather than pushing him away. However, as his chest filled with that familiar inexplicable warmth, Vash found himself withdrawing. He felt vulnerable as he stood before his old friend, remembering the worry the man had brought him in his absence. He wasn't sure if he was ready to continue on this path of growing trust if Roderich was going to forget him for a week, no matter the reason.

"Is there any particular reason you came today?" Vash asked, hoping Roderich would not notice that his stern tone was somewhat forced. Roderich looked somewhat taken aback.

"I wanted to see you," he murmured, bowing his head. "To make sure you were okay. I apologize if that is not what you wanted." His shoulders slouched forward for a brief moment, and Vash was almost positive he had not seen someone look so sincerely sorry. His resolve to be distant wavered, then broke. He could not hurt this man.

"I did," Vash admitted, turning his head to one side to hide the rising flush in his cheeks. "Want to see you, that is." Roderich's head snapped up, and his eyes shone.

"Really?" he asked, sounding nothing short of elated.

"Yeah, you usually bring food with you," Vash retorted, thrown off yet again by Roderich's enthusiasm. How was he supposed to respond to such unbridled joy when he could not even bring himself to smile anymore?

Roderich's face fell slightly, but Vash could tell he had received enough encouragement not to give up so quickly. The brunette's posture changed yet again to as business-like as Vash had ever seen it, alerting him of another new approach to the conversation.

"Well, I did not come bearing food this time, but I do have a proposition for you," Roderich said, eyeing Vash cautiously as he spoke. He had to be careful not to sound too formal, or Vash would see him as cold and say no, but this interaction had shown that the surly blond was far from ready for any displays of emotion either. His mind raced to come up with something suitable to propose to Vash that would make up for his error. Something personal, yet not… What on earth fit that description?

"Well, what is it?" Vash demanded, glaring at Roderich expectantly.

"Come to my piano recital tonight!" Roderich blurted out, saying the first thing that came to mind. Vash paused, and Roderich took the opportunity to compose himself and continue along the train of thought. "I have been preparing for it all week. It really is going to be a wonderful affair. I'm not the only performer of course, but I have the stage to myself for nearly twenty minutes."

"Why would I want to go to that?" Vash asked, not meeting Roderich's eyes. Roderich decided to take a risk.

"Because it would mean a lot to me," he told Vash simply, allowing the response to hang in the air between them for Vash to consider in his own time. And because you need to get out of the house, Roderich thought to himself. Vash stiffened, but said nothing. After a few more moments of silence, Roderich sighed and turned away.

"I have to go to rehearsal now. I'll be back at seven thirty to get you," he called over his shoulder. "Wear something nice, it's at the amphitheatre." Ignoring the urge to run back to Vash and demand that he properly accept the invitation, Roderich walked away, leaving Vash dumbstruck on his front step, shivering in the early winter cold and staring at the spot where Roderich had been just moments ago.

At rehearsal, Roderich could not drive Vash from his mind. Luckily he was not required to be an active participant for the majority of the practice, because the distraction surely would have called into doubt his ability to perform properly that evening. He had to figure out a way to convey to Vash how much he meant to carry through with this, whatever 'this' was, through the concert. He knew if Vash did not enjoy himself, he would likely take the combined offense of Roderich's long absence and poor performance as a reason to cease communication. Such an occurrence was unthinkable.

"Edelstein!" the conductor barked, drawing Roderich out of his reverie.

"Yes sir?" he replied, standing up and doing his best to look every inch the professional he was supposed to be. It was a very rare honor that a freshman got to perform in a semester concert, let alone as a soloist, and he was determined to impress the exacting director. Roma was friendly out of rehearsal, to be sure, but when he was in concert mode it was almost like he was a military general. Roderich was fairly terrified of him.

"The concert clocked in at five minutes too short with the tempo changes I put in yesterday. Do you have any more repertoire prepared?" Roma demanded. Roderich's heart soared.

"I have quite a collection of backup repertoire, although it might be a little less polished than my recent works. Do you have any specific restrictions?" he asked politely, fighting to keep an elated smile from his face. He already knew what he was going to play, provided Roma allowed it.

"Nothing too simplistic, but preferably a crowd-pleaser. Your set list this evening is more suited for classical music enthusiasts, which unfortunately is a small portion of the student population. We need to sell tickets, you know." Roma gave him a meaningful look.

"Is Debussy's Claire de Lune acceptable?" Roderich asked, his heart racing. This was his chance. Roma broke into a large grin and swung his arm around the pianist's shoulders.

"That's perfect! You really are quite something for a freshman," Roma boomed. Roderich tensed, unsure of how to respond to the older man's sudden cheer. He had seen Roma booming with cheerful laughter outside of rehearsal, but never during.

"Thank you sir," Roderich replied stiffly, slipping out from under Roma's arm.

"I have to run the concerto one more time. Go to the practice room off stage left and practice Claire De Lune while I do. I want it perfect by tonight," Roma informed him gravely, his commanding aura returning in an instant. "My grandsons are coming to see this performance tonight and I want them to be impressed by what their old man has put together."

"I'm sure they will sir," Roderich replied dutifully.

"Only if you get practicing. Now Edelstein, we haven't got all day!" Roderich nearly ran to the practice room, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. I have been doing too much running today, he decided as he made his way over to the grand piano in the corner of the room. With a long sigh he sat down on the bench and raised the cover, revealing the shiny black and white keys.

"Let's make this perfect," he whispered to himself, placing his hands on the cool ivory. "For Vash." Closing his eyes, Roderich allowed his memory to take him, and before long his fingers had brought him back in time to a simpler era, when Vash would sit at the piano bench and listen to this very song. Those moments of music that Roderich shared with his friend had been one of the few times he had seen genuine peace in those green eyes. All he wanted now was to bring that serenity back to his old friend.

And so he played, simultaneously keenly focused and blissfully unaware in a way only a musician can be, making music for a memory, for his friend.

It was half an hour until Roderich had said he was going to come, and Vash was still lying shirtless on his bed staring at the ceiling. He had slept most of the day, having spent most of the previous night piecing back together the family photos he had destroyed along the staircase in his rampage weeks earlier. Sleep had given him the clarity to know he wanted to go see Roderich play, but there was still a stubborn part of him that resisted his gradual warming up to his old friend.

"You're being ridiculous," Vash grumbled to himself, hauling himself up and out of bed. "It's just a stupid piano performance." A piano performance given by the only person who has shown any care for me since… it happened. "You owe it to him, really," Vash continued to reason with himself as he made his way over to his closet, pulling open the door and rifling through it to search for proper clothes. He was somewhat amazed that he actually owned so many garments after wearing the same two sweatpants and three hoodies in rotation since he had sealed himself off from the world.

This should do, Vash thought, pulling down a pair of black silk pants and a white button-up. Stripping off his sweats, Vash pulled the trousers up and fastened them around his waist, which had become somewhat slimmer than when he had first bought them. Looking down, he examined the cloth for any wrinkles, only to catch his breath as he noticed something much worse: the tears.

Vash stripped the pants off in a matter of seconds, throwing them across the room with a violent gesture. Deep in his chest, his heart blazed with renewed grief. Those were the pants he had worn to Lili's funeral.

Vash sunk to the floor, the concert forgotten as he began to drown once again in mourning. He had been feeling so much fuller, so much lighter this week since Roderich had left the letters. Why did such a small thing have the ability to have such a profound effect on him? He didn't know, but the feelings it gave him brought him to his knees. His shoulders began to shake and tears streaked down his face, searing their sadness into him as they went.

A knock came at the door downstairs. Vash ignored it.

After a few moments, Vash heard the door swing open, and he thought absently to himself that he really should do a better job of locking the door while he was sleeping. Without Lili to protect, he simply had no longer felt the need.

"Vash?" Roderich's voice echoed up the stairs. Vash stilled as it reached his ears, for a moment simply allowing the distraction of the other's presence to wash over him in pure relief. Vash heard footsteps and the opening of another door, and then Roderich was standing over him with a concerned look on his face.

"Vash?" he asked, his voice gentle. His posture was soft, open even, as one might stand when trying not to scare off a frightened animal. "What's wrong?" he asked. Vash turned his head to give Roderich a baleful glare. Seemingly undaunted, Roderich reached a hand down to him. "Do you still want to go to the concert?"

Vash nodded silently, but stood without taking the hand.

"What's wrong?" Roderich asked again. There was concern in his violet eyes, but for once Vash did not find himself recoiling from it. Just then, he needed a little concern and comfort.

"Those pants," he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the crumpled clothing as he turned back to his wardrobe for another pair. Roderich turned and stooped to pick up the garment, shaking it out in front of him to get a proper look at it. It did not take long for him to notice the bloody holes in the thighs and realize where they were from.

"Oh," Roderich said simply. When he made no further comment, Vash relaxed slightly. That was one of the nice things about Roderich, Vash thought to himself as he pulled out another pair of pants and pulled them on over his green boxers. If he didn't know what to say, he usually didn't.

It only took Vash a few more minutes to get ready, and the pair walked out into the frigid winter air without another word to each other. Vash knew that Roderich was uncomfortable with the silence from the look on his face, but was glad that he did not speak up - after his most recent relapse into grief all he wanted was to bask in the strange comfort that Roderich's presence brought him.

"I'll see you after the show," Roderich said as they came to the entrance to the ampitheatre. "You're here a little early, since I had to be here to warm up before the concert and I didn't want you walking alone in the cold. Go find a seat, and meet me in the lobby when it's done." Without giving Vash a chance to respond, he turned and quickly made his way into the large building. Vash realized a little belatedly that he had probably made Roderich late. That fact, however, did not bother him as much as the niggling sense of resentment that had somehow wormed its way into Vash's chest. Bringing him meals in his bereavement was one thing, but not wanting him to walk alone in the cold? When had Roderich become the protector out of the two of them? Vash wasn't quite sure if he liked the change.

Even though he was early, the performance hall was already half-full when Vash entered. He stood in the doorway, staring at the collection of life before him in frightened awe for several moments, keenly aware of the fact that the last event he had attended with such a large audience had been Lili's funeral. The realization made him choke up a little bit, and it was only the shouting of a student in loud and angry Italian that kept him from succumbing fully to his emotions. Still in a slight daze, Vash made his way to the front row and plopped down into a seat near the aisle. He could only hope that the dark look on his face and his unwelcoming posture would keep others from wanting to sit with him. He was in no mood to socialize just then.

It took almost forty-five more minutes for the concert to get started, during which time Vash grew more and more uncomfortable with being in a public place. The chatter around him was just on the brink of driving him out of the hall and back to the quiet solitude of his home when the lights finally dimmed, announcing the beginning of the show. The performance began with the orchestra, who were closely followed by a jazz band and a classical chorus. The initial performances helped relax him somewhat, but in truth he really only cared about one thing - seeing Roderich play. He felt anticipation building inside him as the concert grew closer and closer to ending, waiting desperately for a glimpse of brown hair and a glint of thick spectacles at the piano. There was a reason Roderich had invited him to see him play, he knew, and he was almost excessively interested in finding out what that reason had been.

When the chorus finally filed out of view and the stage went dark, Vash thought briefly that the show had ended. Betrayal gripped him for a few short moments - how dare Roderich drag him out of the house for something as trivial as a college concert - before a spotlight shone down on stage and illuminated a lone figure at the piano. Vash's breath caught in his throat.

Roderich took a deep bow -  _regal as always_ , Vash thought with a roll of his eyes - before sitting down at the piano and placing his hands on the ivory keys. He had delicate hands, Vash thought to himself as he watched, overcome by a strange longing to reach out and touch them, to protect them from strong and dangerous things. Before Vash could properly question this instinct, however, Roderich began to play.

The familiarity of the piece washed over Vash like a slow-moving waterfall; gentle, yet powerful. A delicate melody swept across the upper registers of the piano, resonating through Vash's mind as a half-remembered dream and a half-forgotten memory of a golden childhood. His heart ached beautifully as he watched Roderich play, feeling somewhat selfish as he imagined that his old friend was playing solely for him as he had so many times in their childhood. Any grief that he had remained from earlier that evening eroded away with the gentle flow of the music, and Vash found himself completely at peace.

Staring up at Roderich, he was startled to see that the pianist seemed to have tears in his eyes. The emotional display that usually would have put Vash on edge instead soothed him as he watched, glad to know he was not alone in the intensity of his feelings. It struck him then that he was not being selfish - he knew without a doubt that this music was for him. There was a reason that Roderich had invited him here, and this was it. This was Roderich's final plea. Look at me, the music said as it rose and fell under Roderich's direction. See what I can offer you, the part of myself I have always been willing to share.

And finally, Vash was willing to accept it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: "Mein Herz erkennt dich immer" -- Asp, "La cathédrale engloutie" -- Debussy

It was snowing.

Vash stared out his bedroom window in wonder, unsure if he should be delighted or terrified by the new development. On the one hand, he prized winter weather as the one thing that could make him feel as if he were at home in his native Switzerland. On the other, it meant that an entire season had passed him by without notice. It was hardly a pleasant realization.

As he always was when snow was on the ground, Vash found himself possessed to go outside and bask in winter's glory. He quickly pulled his winter coat out of his closet and raced down the stairs, shrugging on the heavy garment as he went. Pausing briefly in the entrance hall to pull on his boots, Vash rushed to the front door, only to stop short as he reached for the handle. Usually with the first snow of winter came another pair of booted feet, a snowman in the front yard and steaming mugs of cocoa after. Winter was Lili's season as much as it was his, and he could not remember a time since their father had left that she had not joined him on the first snow expedition of the winter.

The familiar pain of grief welled up in his chest, but for the first time Vash found himself fighting back. The serenity he had felt the previous evening from Roderich's performance was still fresh in his mind, and he had no intention of allowing it to dissipate so quickly. After all, it was the first true peace he had experienced in a very long time. Taking a deep breath, Vash grasped the door handle and pulled, opening the way to the wintry outside world. He realized distantly that this was the first time he had left the house by himself since  _it_ had happened, but could not bring himself to care caught up as he was in the beauty of snow. He threw his head back and allowed the gently falling crystals to kiss his face, relishing each icy pinprick that graced his skin as if life itself were injecting vitality into him with every flake. It was almost as restorative as Roderich's playing.

 _Roderich,_ Vash thought, stooping to scoop a palmful of snow into his bare hands, which melted through his fingers as he thought. He knew without a doubt that it was somehow Roderich's doing that he had been able to step outside today, and, as much as it pained him to admit it, he wanted to share that with him.

 _But what can I do?_ Vash wondered, staring down at the snow beneath his feet. Unable to come up with an answer, he kicked the powder angrily, causing it to spray up in a sparkling white flurry. Vash's eyes widened as he saw this, reminded of memories of snow sprays of a different sort.

Of course skiing was the best way for Vash to share his gratitude for the healing Roderich had brought him. After all, if music was Roderich's favorite way to soothe himself, then skiing was certainly one of Vash's, and Roderich had already shared his comfort with Vash. Only one thing held him back - the memory of Lili beside him on the slopes, her cheeks rosy with cold and her eyes glowing with joy that mirrored Vash's own. His heart dropped at the thought of it.

 _No,_ Vash thought.  _Lili… Lili wouldn't have wanted you to stop skiing,_ he told himself. He took a deep breath and stared down at his hands, which glistened faintly with moisture in the morning sun. It was hard for him to think of Lili so finitely in the past tense, but he knew he had to be strong. For her, and for her memory, which he had been doing such a poor job of honoring in his grief.

Turning, he made his way back into the house on a mission. The door swung shut behind him with a heavy thud, and it did not occur to him that he normally would have left room for Lili's boots beside his as he stripped them off and tossed them beside the entranceway. Instead, he was consumed with thoughts of Roderich.

~oOo~

Roderich could not help but stand in a few moments of shocked stillness after he put down the phone. There was an unmistakable warmth radiating in his chest, but it was hesitant, as if it like his mind did not quite believe what had just happened. Vash had reached out to  _him._ For the first time,  _Vash_  had made the first move, had expressed interest in spending time with Roderich without prompting. He had even gone so far as to offer to spend money to ensure that Roderich would spend time with him, something which spoke volumes to Vash's determination to get Roderich to come with him. Roderich had no idea how to ski, but if it meant encouraging Vash's unexpected - but certainly welcome - friendliness, he was willing to try the sport. Even if he had long considered to be too crude and dangerous to be worth spending time or money on.

Thus, after the initial shock and joy that had accompanied Vash's sudden gesture wore off, Roderich hastily pulled out any winter clothing he could find and bundled up the best he could. He had no idea what sort of dress was required for skiing, but since Vash had assured him that the mountains should have been getting snow for a month he at least knew that boots and a coat were involved somehow. He rushed out the front door and over to Vash's house in record speed - for him at least - and found himself standing on the stoop on Pine street without even noticing the cold and long walk. He raised his hand to knock, only to to be struck by an impulse reminiscent of days long gone. Without a second thought he allowed his hand to fall to the door handle and let himself in, calling a greeting ahead of him as he did so. A blond head poked into the entranceway from the living room and greeted in him in return. Roderich almost fell over in surprise when he realized that Vash did not even sound remotely annoyed with him for just walking into the house. It was just as it had been ages ago, when entrance into each other's spaces and lives was as easy as breathing. The thought brought a deep warmth to his chest as he made his way through the house.

"What are you wearing?" Vash demanded as Roderich stepped into the living room. There was Vash's customary brusqueness again, Roderich thought with a slight sigh, but took heart in the knowledge that it was less biting than usual.

"A coat and boots?" he replied smoothly, wincing slightly at the slight haughtiness in his own voice. Vash hated that, and he knew it. Vash exhaled in frustration.

"You idiot. You're going to freeze to death if you go skiing in a pea coat, let alone without gloves, a scarf or snow pants," Vash informed him severely. Roderich blushed.

"This was your idea," Roderich retorted, driven to defensiveness by his embarrassment. "It's not my fault I don't have the supplies needed for this silly sport." Vash rolled his eyes.

"Luckily for you, I anticipated your general disorganization and underpreparedness. Here, put these on," Vash instructed, gesturing behind him. Straining up on his toes, Roderich peered over the top of Vash's head to where the shorter man had been gesturing, and saw that there was a collection of deep blue snow gear laid out on the sofa. Again his heart swelled at the familiarity of the picture - he had often borrowed Vash's extra snow gear as a child to build snowmen on the rare days Vash managed to drag him out of doors.

"They'll fit you," Vash assured him as Roderich moved to pick up the garments and eye them warily. "My father bought them for me before he, well, left. He always assumed I would end up being taller, so those are too large." Roderich could not help but snicker under his breath at the resentful tone in Vash's voice as he grumbled out the explanation, which earned him a scowl and a grunt of irritation out of Vash. Roderich ignored him in favor of trying to pull on the gear in front of him, which proved to be more difficult than he originally anticipated.

Vash stared at Roderich as he dressed, overcome by a strange mixture of nostalgia, happiness, and the lingering undertones of guilty grief. For all that he tried to, he was unable to forget that skiing had once been the domain of himself and his sister alone, and allowing Roderich into it seemed like a violation of that bond. However, he was not given much chance to dwell on his negative emotions as Roderich quickly turned around and presented his preparations for inspection. Vash could not help but snigger at the ridiculous way the musician had dressed himself, particularly when it came to the awkward arrangement of his scarf, which appeared to be wrapped around his entire head for warmth.

"That's not very dignified," Vash admonished, fighting a smile as he reached out to unwind the garment from his friend's head. "You have a hat for your head." The words seemed familiar as they rolled off his tongue, and as his fingers brushed the woolen material of the scarf it struck him with painful clarity why. Ages ago, on an early winter ski trip much like this one, he had said the same words to Lili, who had tied her scarf in more knots than could be counted in an attempt to keep it on while skiing. Remembrance gripped Vash, and he froze with his hand on Roderich's head, his fingers entangled in the scarf and the silken texture of Roderich's hair. The dull undertone of his mourning flared up in an instant, raging hard against the careful barriers that had been placed on it by Roderich's playing the night before and Vash's own restraints.

For a moment it was all Vash could do to stand there in paralyzed silence. He could feel Roderich's eyes on him, but could not bring himself to react to the concern in the violet gaze. Instead, his entire self was focused on control.  _I can do this,_ he told himself as he pushed the hurt down and away.  _This is what she would want. I need to let myself be… happy._

"What did you do in the winter when you didn't have me to watch you?" Vash inquired in a voice that was more strained than teasing. He wanted desperately to dispel the hurt in his heart and the obvious unease Roderich was feeling about his sudden reaction, but found himself unable to do so properly. Luckily Roderich seemed to pick up on his cues and colored slightly and looked away.

"We had a butler who laid out my things, and I had a driver to get me everywhere. I rarely needed to bundle up in the winter," he admitted. Vash couldn't stop a derisive "aristocrat" from slipping out under his breath, and Roderich's indignant response ended up sparking a playful argument that lasted them through the rest of the preparations. By the time they had gotten onto the bus to get to the ski resort, the banter had evolved into light conversation, and Vash could no longer find any trace of grief within him. Sitting beside Roderich with the prospect of winter sports in the near future, Vash was able to not only return to his usual neutral, but also go past it into a minute state of excitement. He knew he was not being particularly expressive about the newly positive nature of his emotions, but at the same time he knew that Roderich was picking up on it by the way the pianist was treating him. Instead of handling Vash as if he were made of glass, Roderich was finally allowing himself to slip into the subtle and friendly antagonism that had existed between them in their youth. Vash would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it.

Buying the lift tickets and renting the skis was far more of an ordeal than Vash had originally expected, half because the prices had increased since last year and half because it was very difficult to convince Roderich that the thin fiberglass skis were in fact sturdy enough to carry him down a hill. After explaining to Roderich for the fifth time (he counted) how to do up the latches on the boots, Vash finally managed to get Roderich properly situated in his gear and dragged him outside.

"Remind me again why the first time you decide to leave the house in months is to do something dangerous and freezing cold?" Roderich asked as Vash watched him struggle to snap his boots into the bindings on his skis at the base of the hill. The park was reasonably empty for a Sunday, giving Vash a clear view of the snow-clad mountains all around him. Inhaling deeply, he relished the clear and frigid air as it raced through his lungs. The cold was invigorating, and he could not help but break into a smile as he turned to face Roderich.

"Because you're a sissy who needs to learn how to appreciate the beauty of the winter," he retorted smoothly, tapping one of his ski poles against Roderich's leg. "Now let's get you up on the bunny hill so we can witness your impending failure."

Roderich gaped at him, simultaneously offended and overjoyed by the response. Before he could properly formulate a reply, however, Vash had angled himself at the base of the ski lift and begun to skate off. "Hey wait, how do you walk in these things?" Roderich called after him, doing his best to imitate the fluid skating motion that Vash was somehow managing on his own skis as he made chase.

Unsurprisingly, Roderich's first time down the hill was a disaster. As were his second, third, fourth, and fifth times, much to his irritation and Vash's amusement. "I don't know what I did to deserve this," Roderich grumbled as he trudged up the hill for the tenth time since they had started to retrieve a lost ski. For all that he wanted to help Vash feel better, he was beginning to suspect he had found the limit of his willingness to be agreeable.

"Can we go in?" Roderich asked as Vash stopped beside him. Vash's face fell instantly, and for a few moments Roderich considered rescinding his statement just to humor him. Vash's expression had been so alive today, even if that meant it was simply back to it's usual neutrality, that he almost broke down at the idea of ruining it. However, this "outdoor sports" thing was proving to be a little more than he could handle. Covered as he was in snow, soaked to the bone and freezing cold, Roderich wanted nothing more than to go inside and sip some cocoa.

"Are you sure? I could try to slow down and teach you better," Vash offered, his eyebrows slightly drawn up in hopefulness. While Roderich honestly wanted nothing more than to just go home and change into dry clothes, he simply could not ignore that face. After seeing it marred with grief for so long, he would take hope even if it meant spending more hours in the freezing hell of the ski resort.

"I would really like you to teach me," Roderich replied honestly. After all, the few mini instructions Vash had given him at the start of each run had probably been the closest thing to their old dynamic he had felt in years. "But can we at least go in and get warm first?"

"What, are your hands numb?" Vash inquired, his eyes concerned. Roderich's heart leapt at the obvious care in his voice.

"Well that, and I also got snow in my coat. I don't know how you deal with this," he replied. He attempted to cross his arms stubbornly, only to have the motion blocked by the poles he was carrying, leaving him to awkwardly fall to his sides.

"Well not falling helps," Vash pointed out dryly. "But you really need to take care of yourself. If your hands are numb you need to tell me right away so we can get you warm. It wouldn't do for the concert pianist to lose fingers to frostbite."

"Lose fingers?!" Roderich squeaked, staring wide-eyed at Vash in alarm.

"Yeah, although you are probably the first person ever to go numb after five runs when it's just barely below freezing outside. Maybe if you spent more time outside and toughened up a little we wouldn't be having this problem," Vash teased. His face was flat as usual, but there was a playful glint in his eyes, and Roderich had to fight a smile to maintain his dignity. "Now let's get you warmed up."

Roderich clumsily followed Vash down the hill, only falling once more before he made it to the base and the lodge. The pair undid their bindings and made their way into the lodge, where Vash quickly deposited Roderich by the fireplace before ambling off in search of hot chocolate for the both of them. Roderich shrugged out of his wet jacket and spread it out on the hearth to dry, leaning in close to the flames to draw some of its warmth into his body.

"Here," Vash said, walking up to Roderich and offering him a lidded cup of cocoa. Roderich accepted it gratefully and began to take tentative sips at the hot liquid as Vash sat down beside him.

"Don't burn your tongue," Vash reprimanded when Roderich began to sputter at the temperature of the drink. "I paid good money for that, so make sure you can actually taste it when you drink it." Roderich looked at him sharply, harsh words just beginning to form on his lips when he noticed Vash's face. There was an unmistakable fondness in his eyes, and the faintest smile was dancing around the corners of his mouth. Roderich could not help but smile back.

"It's good to see you happy again," Roderich told him impulsively, leaning in slightly so their elbows brushed. Vash's eyes widened, and in their proximity Roderich could feel his entire body stiffen slightly. The happy warmth in Roderich's chest cooled slightly with fear as he stared at Vash, who remained rigidly silent for several tense moments as Roderich watched him. Had it been the wrong thing to say? Was this going to undo all of their progress? Was he misreading Vash entirely? His mind raced frantically in search of a solution to the current tension, only to come up with blank after blank. At this point, Roderich could only hope that Vash would ignore him and the obviously stricken expression on his face, as he knew that it would only serve to worsen the situation if Vash noticed it.

Then, Vash relaxed. "I don't know if I would say happy just yet," he whispered, allowing his head to fall forward and veiling his face with his hair. "But it's good to not feel so sad." Sensing a vulnerability he had not seen in Vash in a while, Roderich leaned closer to his friend, pressing their shoulders together and offering him a reassuring nudge. For a brief moment, Roderich swore he felt Vash lean into the contact. A new, indescribable feeling welled deep within him, and he looked down at the man beside him with an overwhelming tenderness. Vash  _was_  happy, Roderich decided as he took in Vash's pale face, colored gold by the firelight. All he had to do now was to get Vash to allow himself to admit it.

The contact between them, however, was not to last, and when Vash pulled himself away Roderich could not help but notice that a strange sense of emptiness panged in his chest. Luckily, Vash gave him very little time to wonder about this new development, as he quickly spoke up in a rather flustered tone of voice.

"Are you quite ready to go back out?" he demanded. Roderich noticed with a slight smirk that his face was bright red, suspecting the rosy hue had very little to do with their proximity to the fire place.

"Well I wouldn't want to waste your money and not drink this cocoa now would I?" Roderich taunted playfully. Vash scowled.

"I suppose not. Well get drinking then, and don't burn your tongue."

They finished their drinks in companionable silence, and were just about to pull on their jackets when a loud voice cut through the lodge.

"Yo Vashy! What's up my man?" Vash and Roderich turned to face the source of the voice, which was striding towards them and looking rather like the abominable snowman in their ski get up. The speaker stopped a few feet from where they sat at the fire and pulled off a large, reflective ski helmet to reveal gravity-defying blonde hair and an enthusiastic grin. Behind him, Roderich could dimly see the figure of another well-bundled man, also blond but looking much less happy to be there. Vash stiffened.

"Hello Mathias," Vash replied, the strain in his voice obvious. Roderich looked at him in concern - did this man have some sort of problem with Vash? Roderich wasn't sure how much he could do to intervene on behalf of his friend with this large and energetic man, but he still felt a deep protectiveness wash over him as the two blonds stared at each other.

"I didn't know you were here, man! Lukas and I have been carving the diamonds since dawn, but we haven't seen you once! Don't tell me you've stopped skiing real hills." The man - Mathias? - looked down at Vash expectantly.

Behind Mathais, the other blond man rolled his eyes and brought his palm to his forehead. "He has a friend with him, Mathias. Maybe he's teaching him," he put in. His tone implied complete disinterest in the situation, which was further accented by his absentminded toying with a cross-shaped barrette in his hair.

"A friend?" Mathias asked incredulously, turning slightly to peer down at Roderich. "No way this guy is with Vash. He's too sissy. Anyways, Vash only ever skis with Lili."

Both Vash and Roderich went completely still. At first, Roderich could only feel indignant, and opened his mouth to give this "Mathias" a piece of his mind. Then, he remembered Vash. Looking over at his friend, Roderich swore he saw the beginnings of tears beginning in the blond's eyes, something that brought the dark heat of anger into his chest. Who was this Mathias man to ruin all of today's progress with his thoughtlessness?

"Speaking of which, where is that little cutie? I swear, she's always around on the diamonds too, scaring the shit out of everyone by being the most badass little girl they've ever met. I don't think I've ever seen you without her," Mathias continued, apparently unaware of the distress he was causing. "Is she at a dance competition or something? Or is she too old to be hanging out with her big bro nowadays?"

Roderich did not have to be very close to Vash to feel the way that his friend's shoulders had begun to shake, and he knew he had to do something fast. Acting on impulse, he stood up and took two long strides towards Mathias, settling himself squarely in front of the larger man. He barely came up to the large skiers nose, but in his anger he could not bring himself to be intimidated as he usually would be.

"Leave us alone," he commanded in his best authoritative voice, and surprised himself by sounding convincingly stern. Mathias' eyes widened in confusion, and he stared dumbly down at Roderich for a few moments before breaking into a wide smile.

"Looks like you're not so sissy after all," he commented, reaching out to clap Roderich on the shoulder. Roderich winced under the blow - Mathias was just as strong as he looked, which was no small statement - but stood fast. "So what are you then, replacement Lili? You're certainly girly enough."

"He  _said_ to  _LEAVE US ALONE,"_ Vash shouted, jumping to his feet and closing the gap between himself and Mathias with a few long strides. The pair were dangerously close together, the tension between them almost palpable to everyone watching. Even with his glasses left on the hearth, Roderich could clearly see tears brimming in Vash's eyes, and inside his chest whatever happiness he had been feeling disintegrated

"Woah, I was just kidding," Mathias said, raising his hands defensively. "You know me Vash, I never mean anything unkind that I say. It's just fun joking!" His voice remained cheerful, but his eyebrows were drawn up in alarm, and he seemed poised to flee. "I just wanted to know where Lili is!"

Roderich stared up at Mathias in undiluted hatred as Vash sunk to his knees beside him, shaking violently with sobs. "She, she's -" he stammered, staring blankly at the ground through his tears.  _Oh God, he's going to say it,_ Roderich realized with a start, glancing down at the tearful man beside him.  _He's not ready for that yet._

"Lili is dead," Roderich cut in, preventing the utterance any words that Vash might have had. Mathias staggered as if punched, his face crumpling in sorrow.

"No way. No, she can't just, oh my God Vash, I'm so sorry, I had no idea…" he trailed off, clearly unsure of how to make amends.

"I think we should go," Mathias's companion cut it, reaching out to wrap his hand around Mathias's bicep.

"I'm so sorry," Mathias breathed as he was dragged away. Roderich wasn't sure, impaired as he was, but he thought he had seen tears in Mathias's eyes as well.

His concern for Mathias, however, lasted for mere moments before his attention was drawn back to the sorrow-stricken form of Vash on the floor. He hesitated for a moment before before kneeling down beside his friend, completely unsure of what to do with him. He was overwhelmed by a strange urge to draw Vash up into his arms and stroke his hair soothingly, but the thought was so alien to him that he rejected it immediately. Open affection would only make Vash worse.

"Do you want to go home?" Roderich asked gently after allowing Vash to cry himself out for several moments. Vash shook his head vigorously. Roderich raised his eyebrows in surprise, but pressed on. "Do you want to stay here?" Another head shake. "Do you want to go back out?"

This time, Vash thought for several long moments before hestitantly shaking his head no. Roderich frowned slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked, hoping he was onto something. This time Vash wasted no time giving his reply; a faintly whispered "no."

"C'mon then, let's get you back out on the hills. You were supposed to instruct me how to perform this savage sport, and I am going to hold you to it," he teased half heartedly. Vash heaved a deep sigh, and for a short, painful moment Roderich thought yet again that he had done the wrong thing. Then, Vash raised his head and turned to look Roderich dead on. There were still tears threatening at the corners of his eyes, but there was determination in his gaze that made Roderich feel considerably better.

"There's no way you're going to get good at skiing by tonight," Vash informed him, and if it weren't for the still-pained look on his face Roderich would have thought he was talking to the sarcastically caustic Vash of his childhood. Even so, he still felt strangely certain of one thing in that moment - they were going to get through this.

Vash could tell Roderich was really trying. Every little comment Vash made about his technique was applied immediately, and he didn't complain once about taking falls, getting snow in his clothes, or how out of breath he got from completing runs. The effort certainly was reassuring, if only because it demonstrated Roderich's continued dedication to their friendship, but it did not fully erase the dull ache of mourning in his chest. He often found himself staring wistfully at the larger hills, caught up in remembering the days that Lili would challenge him to race down their slopes. No matter how quickly or insistently he pushed the thoughts away, they would always return when Vash waited alone at the base of the hill for Roderich to come down, only fleeing his mind when his friend finally reached him.

"I want to try a bigger hill," Roderich told after their twentieth run down the beginner's slope. Vash eyed him skeptically. The musician was obviously somewhat winded, not to mention that he was covered with snow and his coat was soaked.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You've only made it all the way down this one without falling twice," Vash replied. However, while his words spelled hesitance, his mind began to buzz with excitement.

"I think I can handle it," Roderich replied in his usual haughty manner. Although Vash doubted that, any reasonable thought he might have had about Roderich's safety on a big hill was drowned out by his overwhelming desire to ski again, the way he had in years past.

"Alright, let's go then," he replied, wincing slightly at the obvious tone of anticipation in his voice. Roderich, seemingly noticing Vash's subtle enthusiasm, flashed him a large smile before clumsily skating off towards the lift that serviced the larger hills. Vash watched him go, admiring the silly picture that the delicate musician made on his skis. The amusement it brought him filled him with a strange warmth, which he allowed to wash over him like a comforting blanket for a few brief moments before moving to chase after his friend and take the lift up.

"This… is higher up than I expected." They had reached the top quickly, and Roderich was peering warily over the top edge of the slope taking in the distance to the bottom with wide eyes. He had been strangely silent during the lift ride up, but Vash had taken little notice in his preoccupation with the larger hill. After the episode in the lodge, there was nothing Vash wanted more than the distracting challenge of a good run.

"Oh don't be such a sissy," Vash scoffed playfully. "It's just a blue square."

"Isn't that like the second hardest?" Roderich squeaked, shrinking back from the crest of the hill.

"You're the one who wanted to do the harder hill," Vash pointed out. In retrospect, taking Roderich up a blue square might not have been the best idea, but Vash was so excited to ski he couldn't bring himself to properly care. All he wanted was distraction, release.

Roderich drew himself up and put on a brave face, giving Vash a weak smile. "That I did. And, being the gentleman that I am, I will remain true to my word. Allow us to go," he replied haughtily. Vash had to stop himself from rolling his eyes - it was just so  _Roderich_  to respond like that. The aristocratic arrogance, the underlying nervousness and delicacy… The familiarity was strangely comforting, and Vash was not sure if he liked that.

"Let's go!" Vash echoed, digging his poles into the snow to propel himself forward. Without affording another glance behind him at Roderich, he launched himself down the hill at top speed. The thrill hit him in an instant, banishing the residual darkness that had been weighing him down and replacing it with an almost intoxicating lightness. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and just feel the wind around him as he rushed down the slope, forcing himself to concentrate fully on perfect control of the skis beneath his feet. Air rushed past his ears, and for a few blissful moments his senses were overwhelmed by the beauty of winter.

Then, a bloodcurdling shriek cut through the winter air, and Vash knew without a second thought that it was Roderich. He pivoted sharply on his skis and brought himself to a very abrupt halt, training his eyes up the steep side of the mountain. His heart dropped as he recognized the figure in deep blue of his oversized ski gear, laying sprawled out in the snow and howling in agony. Hastily he released the bindings on his skis and began to sprint uphill as fast as the awkward ski boots would allow, ignoring the shouted protests of a skier moving downhill. He fell to his knees at Roderich's side, frantically assessing the situation before him.

"Someone go get a medic!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping that someone would take notice and bring help. Not even bothering to check if someone had heard him, he turned his full attention back to Roderich, who was still shrilly vocalizing his anguish. Vash's heart dropped as he realized his friend was clutching at his knee, which was extended in a way it was certainly not supposed to, held in place by a ski that had failed to release during Roderich's crash.

"I'm here now, it's okay, you'll be fine," Vash soothed in the calmest voice he could muster, reaching out and releasing the binding, grasping the injured leg with one hand and slowly lowering it to the ground in a more natural position. "Does it hurt anywhere other than your leg?" he asked worriedly, tracing his gaze up and down Roderich's body to see if he could find any further obvious damage.

Roderich shook his head, and Vash heaved a sigh of relief. "We still need to get you down the hill, though," he said shakily. It was then that Vash realized that he was trembling with nerves, and his heart was lodged solidly in his throat. Unsure of how to deal with the strength of his own emotions, he decided to throw his head back away from the source of his worry and again shout desperately for help. He was met with a hollow silence, broken only by the occasional whistling gust of wind across the hill, and suddenly Vash was filled with guilt. He had taken Roderich up on a too-difficult hill knowing the park was nearly empty. He had pushed Roderich to ski past his level for his own, and now he was lying in agony with no help in sight. It was far too much for Vash to bear.

"I'm going to get help," Vash told Roderich, attempting to rise to his feet. He needed to get away from there, from the source of the hideously insistent shame he felt as he looked down at his injured companion, and he needed to do it now.

"Wait!" Roderich gasped through his pain, reaching up to grab Vash's hand as he started to get up. Vash, still unsteady from the shock of seeing Roderich sprawled across the snowy slope, fell back to his knees as Roderich pulled down on him. "Don't go," he pleaded. The blond hesitated, still overwhelmed by the desire to flee the source of the heavy feelings in his chest, before noticing that there were tears streaming down Roderich's face. If it were possible, Vash's heart twisted further in guilt as he recognized the combined expressions of pain and fear splattered across Roderich's face, and the weight of it bound him firmly by his friend's side. His hand still tightly grasped in Roderich's, Vash began to scream for a medic, guilt and desperation giving his voice a terrifying edge that he could only hope would draw someone's,  _anyone's_  attention.

Luckily, it was not long before Vash heard the scrape of skis on snow over his own feral cries, and two skiers pulled up beside them. Reflective helmets were pulled off to reveal Mathias and his partner Lukas, both bearing uncharacteristically concerned expressions. Relief and anger washed over Vash all at once as he looked at the two men, torn between the desire to help Roderich or hate Mathias for reminding him of Lili's absence. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could decide how he wanted to address their presence, he felt Roderich give his hand a slight squeeze. Just as suddenly as it had come, his anger melted away, replaced fully by concern for the man beside him.

With Mathias and Lukas's help, the ski patrol was quickly brought in to carry Roderich down to the medic, where he was diagnosed with a severely sprained knee and left with instructions to use crutches until he could see a better qualified doctor. Vash's guilty conscience had faded to a dim pang of upset by the time he was allowed into the medical bay, but that did not stop his heart from doing strange flips and twists within him as caught sight of the other man lying on his back with his leg in a brace.

"I told you this sport was savage," Roderich told Vash hoarsely as he approached, obviously doing his best to smile through the pain. The expression was like a direct blow to Vash as he realized that even in his own time of need, Roderich was trying to protect him and keep him happy.  _That's not right,_  Vash thought to himself angrily.  _I always take care of_ him.

He knew it wasn't true as soon as he thought it, and it occurred to him that in reality Roderich had been taking care of him for a very long time now. The days of their childhood with Vash as the strong protector had somehow slipped away, and the idea made him very uncomfortable.

"Are you going to be okay like this?" Vash inquired, gesturing to his leg. Roderich's eyebrows shot up, seemingly surprised by the way Vash had disregarded his attempt at humor.

"I suppose I will be, although I am not sure how I am going to take care of myself properly without being able to walk. Life is going to be a lot more complicated until I can get off crutches," Roderich admitted, coloring slightly. "There are a lot of stairs in my apartment building, and the elevator isn't working right now, so that might be a hassle."

"You live in an apartment with a broken elevator?" Vash asked, crossing his arms. His expression clearly spelled disapproval, and Roderich squirmed a little under his gaze.

"It's cheap," he muttered, flushing even further. Vash rolled his eyes.

"Well I think that's absolute nonsense, and I will have none of it," he informed Roderich, doing his best to appear stern. Roderich's eyebrows drew up in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Last I was aware, you did not know how to repair elevators."

"You don't need to worry about the broken elevators," Vash told him. "I'll take care of you." Roderich's eyes lit up, and Vash could tell he was trying very hard not to smile.

"Okay," Roderich replied simply, and the contentment in his voice was like coming home for Vash. Perhaps, in the midst of all that life was throwing at them, they could try and find their way to normalcy after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Creative Space: O Magnum Mysterium - M. Lauridsen, sung by the Nordic Chamber Choir, and "Os Justi" by Anton Bruckner.

It was dark by the time Vash and Roderich returned home, their forms silhouetted in the dim moonlight as they walked side by side up to Vash's front door. Roderich leaned heavily on his smaller friend as they moved, allowing Vash to carry the weight that his injured leg could not. They were silent, but there was no tension between them as they worked together to get inside, only a companionable cooperation.

It felt right to Vash, somehow, to be the one Roderich was leaning on as they entered the house, to feel the weight of the musician's arm slung around his shoulders and bear the burden his damaged limb could not for him. After all the months of allowing Roderich to care for him, it was almost a relief to return to the role he was accustomed to - the protector, the caregiver. Although his guilt refused to allow him to forget that it was his fault Roderich needed care, Vash was comforted by the responsibility it gave him. It allowed him to feel whole again.

"I'm going to set you up on the couch, okay?" Vash told his friend as they entered the house and flicked on the lights. Vash turned his head to look at his friend, who he could not help but notice looked pale in the warm light of the overhead lamp. Roderich gave a slight nod, but his face looked anything but pleased with the situation.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Vash asked. He shifted under Roderich's weight, trying to take even more of it onto his shoulders.

"It just really hurts," Roderich muttered glumly, dipping his head in embarrassment. The light in the room was not strong, but it illuminated the musician's face enough for Vash to be able to see a frustrated flush creep up onto his cheeks. Vash's already remorse-laden heart sunk even further at the sight, knowing how much it must have pained the usually proud and proper man to be reduced to such a state.

"I'm sorry," Vash whispered. He did not have the heart to give Roderich his usual routine about toughing out the pain, as he had so many times in their youth. This wasn't a couple scrapes from an over-rambunctious Liz - this was a serious injury that was Vash's own fault, and he hated it. "Let's get you set up and I'll bring you some pain medicine for it."

With a little more effort on both their parts, they managed to get Roderich onto the couch, properly medicated and situated for sleep. Vash knew that he could do no more for Roderich at this point, yet he found himself hesitating at the edge of the couch when he tucked the final pillow under the injured leg. Hurt welled up within him as he looked down at Roderich, taking in his physical helplessness and wanting nothing more than to take it onto himself.  _This is my fault,_ he thought darkly, his mood suddenly overwhelmed by self-loathing. At that moment, all Vash wanted was to feel pain and hurt like Roderich, as if it would somehow take his sins away.

"Why did you take the bigger hill like that you idiot?" he demanded impulsively. The sudden volume of his voice jolted his drowsy friend to a sudden, keen awareness, and his whole body tensed in response. The two of them winced together as the sudden motion put strain on Roderich's leg, apparently paining him. Vash stared down at Roderich expectantly, waiting,  _hoping_  for Roderich to spit back a derisive answer about how he was just trying to prove himself to Vash, that it was Vash's fault for pushing him too hard on the hills and making him feel inadequate. Anything to make him hurt.

Roderich looked up at him with soft eyes that were glazed with pain and sleepiness, already losing the clarity of the moment before. "Because I saw the way you were looking at them," he replied simply, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Vash inhaled sharply - he certainly had not been expecting  _that._ It was still his own fault, but the sincerity with which Roderich had spoken assured him that the musician not only did not blame him as he blamed himself, but also care deeply for Vash's pain over his own. Roderich had risked endangering himself not to  _prove_  anything, rather to provide happiness to his friend who had been suffering.

 _He's still protecting me even now,_ Vash realized.  _But why?_  He did not understand Roderich's insistent attempts at bringing him joy, and in his present guilt could not bear to receive them.  _It's supposed to be the other way around._  He instinctively jerked away from where Roderich lay and stood up, careful not to meet the violet gaze that was locked questioningly on him.

"Good night," Vash said brusquely. He turned and left the room, not giving Roderich the time to reply before he bounded up the stairs to the safety of his own room. He stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed without a second thought, still preoccupied with getting away from the source of remorse that was lying downstairs in his living room.

He shut his eyes and willed sleep to come, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not escape the image of Roderich, injured and pitiful, staring up at him with those kind eyes and telling him he had risked so much because of what he had seen in Vash's face. Guilt flooded him as he considered it, but the longer he thought, the more a second feeling began to fight its way to the surface. Warm… affection? brewed beneath the cold surface of his remorse the more he thought of the kindness in Roderich's gaze, melting away the negativity gripping his heart. The fierce protectiveness that he had felt the night of the recital was there too, and combined with the strange tenderness in his chest it created a delicious and all encompassing heat that spread through his body like the the comfort of a hot drink on a cold day. He did not know where it was coming from, or why, but it was an escape from the frigid cold, so he was happy for once to accept it.

~oOo~

Roderich woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast and a brand new pair of crutches at his feet. Warmth filled his chest as he realized that Vash must have gotten up early to go buy Roderich the assistance he would need to walk. A sleepy smile spread across his lips, and he found himself overwhelmed by the desire to be close to his friend. Carefully he disentangled himself from the mess of blankets Vash had wrapped him in and reached to pick up his crutches. Standing, he tucked them under his arms and made his way to the kitchen, wincing as he knocked into various obstacles and disturbed his injury.

"I didn't know you had started cooking again," Roderich commented with a yawn as he entered the kitchen. He leaned his back slightly against the cream-colored wall, grateful for an opportunity to take some weight off of the crutches and his underarms. Vash looked up from where he was bent over the stove, intently watching something in a frying pan.

"You stopped bringing me food, and paying for it was getting too expensive," he replied simply before returning to his task. Roderich frowned slightly, his calm and drowsy mood giving way to slight guilt as he realized that he  _had_ in fact neglected to bring Vash food in his week of absence for finals week. That was yet another failure he had made in his attempts to fix their relationship, one that he had yet to properly make up to his friend.

"Sorry about that," Roderich murmured, hanging his head. Vash's gaze rose again to fall on Roderich, where it lingered for a few tense moments. Feeling slightly flustered, Roderich opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"Don't be. I shouldn't be letting you take care of me," Vash said sternly, his expression leaving no room for argument. "Now go sit down, the food will be ready in a moment and I don't want you standing with that leg of yours." Slightly taken aback, Roderich complied in silence, awkwardly hobbling his way out into the dining room. Vash was not very far behind, entering the room with a steaming plate of food by the time Roderich had managed to maneuver himself into a chair and arrange his crutches securely beside him.

"You remember having rösti when we were children, right?" Vash asked, placing the platter in front of Roderich. It was piled high with the potato pancakes, the sight of which were enough to make Roderich's mouth water. The brunette nodded eagerly while Vash set a place in front of him and served him a heaping pile of rösti, eggs, and sausage.

"Of course!" Roderich replied happily before cutting a piece and guiding it delicately to his mouth. He chewed carefully and swallowed with a thoughtful look on his face before continuing to speak. "It's like a slice of childhood in the present. I must say, I think this is better than what you used to make when we were little."

"Well of course it is! I am much more experienced now!" Vash retorted indignantly, spearing a rösti of his own on his fork. Roderich smirked slightly as he watched his friend eat, not quite processing his words. However, when he picked up the next bite of pancake and tasted the familiar-yet-superior flavor of it, he was struck by the significance of it.

"That's true," Roderich replied after he finished the bite. "You've grown quite a bit since then, in every way I can think of."

Vash paused in the middle of chewing, his taking on a rosy hue as Roderich's words sunk in. "I… I think we both have," he muttered, his words slightly obscured by the food remaining in his mouth.

Happy warmth flooded Roderich as Vash spoke, drawing out that strange tenderness he had felt the day before in the ski lodge and amplifying it until it almost overwhelmed him. The two sensations combined to create a dizzyingly new emotion, one that Roderich could not recognize but welcomed nonetheless. Overcome as he was by the unfamiliar feeling, he was happy to allow the meal to continue in comfortable silence, knowing that replying to Vash's comment would have done nothing but embarrass the man.

"Are you all done?" Vash asked a while later, when the both of them had made their way through several servings of the savory breakfast foods. Roderich leaned back in his chair and nodded, enjoying the pleasant fullness of his stomach as Vash stood and moved to clear his plate away. He followed the blond with his eyes as he picked up the table, taking in each little mannerism with a rapt interest that he could neither explain nor ignore. And there was that tenderness again, warming him more than the hot food ever could have as he stared at his friend. He was taken by the sudden desire to speak, to verbalize this new and wonderful brand of happiness that Vash was giving him, but knew it was unlikely to go over well with Vash. If he could not remain calm in the face of a small compliment, Roderich had no interest in finding out how severe Vash's reaction would be to Roderich's attempts at explaining the churning emotions that he himself barely understood.

He tore his eyes away, scanning the room for something else to draw his attention before it could return to Vash. After a few frantic moments, his gaze fell just over Vash's head, on a painfully familiar object sitting on the mantle.

"You never threw out the lilies," Roderich commented breathlessly, unable to prevent the words from spilling past his lips. Vash dropped the cup he was holding with a clatter of glass against the wooden table, his body rigid with shock. Neither of them moved to pick it up. "I-I'm sorry, that was wrong to say," Roderich stammered hurriedly, keenly aware of the delicacy of the situation. His whole body was thrumming with anxiety as he watched Vash process Roderich's words, his warring emotions playing out as they always did in very subtle changes to his neutral visage.

"You never finished your apology," Vash finally replied after several moments of strained silence. Roderich blinked, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected response.

"What do you mean?" he inquired, cocking his head slightly to the side in confusion. Vash's entire body seemed to relax slightly as he rolled his eyes at Roderich, who could not help but feel grateful for the relatively calm response.

"I mean you only gave me twenty five letters, when you claimed you sent twenty six home," Vash said, placing the dishes that remained in his hands on the table in order to cross his arms stubbornly.

"That's not true," Roderich told him evenly, torn between annoyance that Vash would be unhappy with only twenty five letters and a desire to patch things up between them. "I definitely wrote you twenty six letters. Both times."

"I only found twenty five," Vash shot back, his eyes narrowing. "I cleaned the whole house just like you asked, but came up a letter short. Some apology that was, you couldn't even finish it." Indignant was the only way to describe Vash's tone and posture as he leered down at Roderich, his face flushed with rage.

Roderich sighed heavily. "You'll find the last one when you are ready for it."

Vash's face went from one of suspicion to one of annoyance. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that," he spat, angling his body away from Roderich. Irritation flared up within Roderich as he took in Vash's closed body language and angry expression. Roderich had been trying  _so hard_ , and this is what he got in return? Didn't Vash know how much their friendship mattered to him? Didn't Vash know how much  _he_ mattered to him?

"You know what? I think I  _can_ expect that," Roderich retorted angrily, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. Only his leg prevented him from standing and challenging Vash's doubt in him head on - as it was, he glared defiantly up at the blond with as much righteous anger as he could muster. Vash met his gaze evenly, and they stared at each other for several moments, as if waiting for the other to break.

Then Vash looked away. "You're right," he whispered, relaxing his body to a much more open stance. Roderich's anger cooled in an instant. While he had not really intended to fight with Vash, he certainly had not expected the tension to resolve itself so quickly, especially on Vash's part. He fought to keep a smile from his face as Vash quickly resumed clearing the table, only allowing himself to express his emotions fully once his friend was in the other room and noisily busying himself with washing the numerous dishes.

In Roderich's eyes, he fact that Vash had been willing to concede so easily was monumental. He had always known how stubborn Vash could be, especially on matters of trust. The fact that his friend had admitted that he should believe Roderich, that he should  _trust_ him, meant even more than the invitation to stay at Vash's house or Vash's care for him. Roderich was happy, to say the least.

Much to Roderich's surprise, the comfortable contentment that Vash brought him lasted throughout the day, unmarred by any further tensions between them. If anything, it seemed to him as if Vash was trying especially hard in order to make up for his words that morning, which Roderich certainly did not mind. Indeed, it seemed that Vash was always at his side, tending to Roderich's injury, asking after his comfort, bringing him food and drink and otherwise fussing over him. It was reminiscent of his the excessive attentiveness of their youth, yet Roderich could not help but think that it was different in their adulthoods. For one, as like that morning, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from his friend as he flitted about the room, adjusting things for Roderich's benefit. The delicious warmth in his chest, too, had not been there when they were young, and Roderich decided that its presence made the present far more desirable than his fond memories of the past. Whatever the origin of the feeling, it made everything a little bit cozier, a little bit brighter as he spend the day with Vash by his side.

The feeling grew as the days went on. Roderich had been surprised to find it enveloping him in gentle comfort as he woke to the sound of Vash tiptoeing past him the next morning on the way to the kitchen to make breakfast, but had accepted its presence easily and happily. It remained with him through breakfast, gradually heating from an ember's glow to a small yet healthy blaze in his chest as the morning progressed. He remained like that the rest of the day, and when his heart leapt with the same strange feeling the following morning when he first caught sight of his friend, he was far better prepared. By the time the end of the week, he had grown accustomed to it.

As the bizarre new feeling grew, Roderich became increasingly aware of his proximity to Vash. The closeness of their feet under the table at meals, the brush of their arms as Roderich tried to pass Vash in a narrow hallway on his crutches, the warmth of his hands as he arranged Roderich's leg as the doctor had instructed every evening as he put Roderich to bed on the couch. Each small encounter was like a jolt of electricity through his body, bringing him to a delightfully painful awareness of his present position beside his friend. He understood this even less than he did the new emotion, but did not question it much. It was easier to simply revel in the closeness they shared, and the happiness it brought him. Even if it was the strangest happiness he had ever experienced.

Vash, too, had been afflicted by the strange warmth that had been plaguing Roderich. The feeling came at the most unusual times - when he served Roderich dinner, or when he watched Roderich practice on the ancient electric keyboard he had brought down from the attic for him. The worst was when he came down in the morning just in time to see Roderich catch his first glimpse of the new morning, as the haze of sleep gave his face such an endearing expression Vash felt as if he might break in two. Watching his friend hobble around the house on his crutches was almost enough to overwhelm him some days, and the longer their cohabitation continued the worse it got.

At first, he had tried to accept it. Roderich was his friend after all, and perhaps friendship was supposed to feel like this. It wasn't as if he had any experience to prove the contrary. Thus, he threw himself into following his feelings, allowing them to direct him into caring for Roderich as if it were the easiest thing in the world. And, much to his surprise, it really was that easy to let his emotions take him in such a positive direction.

It was not long, however, before Vash began to wonder if it was getting  _too_  easy to be around Roderich. More and more he found himself side by side with the musician, their limbs barely touching in a way that electrified him into perfect self-awareness. He had not felt so energized, so excited, since…  _it_  had happened, and never quite like this. In the beginning, it had been pleasant, but it had quickly grown to something even more foreign that Vash was not prepared to deal with. The feeling was strengthening, and what was worse was Roderich seemed to be noticing. Why else would Vash catch the other man staring so frequently, or find the brunette slightly flushed when they were in close proximity? Fear began to gnaw at him as he observed their interactions as time marched on, noting anxiously that Roderich was growing more flustered in his presence with each passing day. Surely Roderich could not sense the feeling that had stubbornly rooted itself in his chest?

More time passed, and Vash began to grow anxious. The  _feeling,_ which he had still failed to identify, seemed to be more obvious to Roderich with each passing day, as the musician's treatment of him seemed to be softening each time they interacted. The newfound change in their dynamic put him on the defensive almost immediately, forcing him to begin rebuilding walls that he had long since deemed unnecessary. It was not long before he was once again secluded behind a myriad of barriers, watching Roderich from afar and guarding his traitorous heart as he tried to unlock its mysteries. Shut away from the joy that Roderich brought, it did not take long for the abyss of sorrow to yawn within him once more. Within a few more days, Vash was a shell of his former recovered self.

Roderich sensed Vash pulling away as soon as it began. It was subtle at first; Vash would lean away where he used to lean in, his gentle teasing came less frequently, his face seemed slightly guarded during meals. Roderich compensated for this easily, offering more smiles and angling himself in such a way that he would brush against Vash whenever they passed by one another. However, this was only effective for so long, and Roderich quickly began to notice that even his heightened efforts to make his friend happy were being brushed off with ever increasing brusqueness. Although the joy Vash brought him did not diminish, it was suddenly overshadowed by a crippling sense of anxiety.

 _Perhaps I need to make another gesture,_ Roderich thought after his second week living with Vash. Christmas was nearing, and his friend - whose mood had perpetually bordered on downright irritable the past several days - had made no move to make preparations for the holiday. Roderich, always one for tradition, was slightly perturbed at first by Vash's disregard for the season as Christmas drew closer. However, it did not take long for him to find a golden opportunity in Vash's lacking festiveness, one that he hoped could prove to Vash once and for all that whatever had caused him to be cold towards Roderich this time around was in fact insignificant compared to how much Roderich cared for him.

Therefore, just a week before the holiday, Roderich found himself trying to navigate the dark of Vash's house in silence after his friend had made his way to bed, a task made all the more difficult by his continued reliance on crutches to move. With a few minutes of careful work, he managed to find himself sitting in front of Vash's ancient computer, which he was almost positive that his friend did not use. Nimble pianists fingers swept across the keyboard, startling the device to life and coaxing it into performing the functions he needed to order the gift he wanted. Within an hour - due more to the speed of Vash's connection rather than the difficulty to obtain a gift of the nature Roderich desired - Roderich was shutting down the computer with a large smile across his face. This, surely, would prove to Vash that it was worth letting him back in, if only he would continue to tolerate him until Christmas.

Despite what Roderich thought, Vash was not unaware of the rapidly approaching holiday. Rather, he was doing his best to ignore it. After all, Christmas had been Lili's favorite holiday, and it had been  _his_ favorite thing to share with her. However, no matter how much he tried, he was unable to shut the idea of the the holiday, and by extension his sister, out of his mind. The last thing he wanted in the world was to spend a Christmas without Lili, and yet each day the moment grew closer without any chance of Lili returning. Faced with the prospect of celebrating the holiday without her, Vash withdrew even further into himself and away from the only person that could help him.

The more time that Vash spent with Roderich, the more that the man's presence began to grate at him. It had begun with the walls around his heart, strong and safe protecting him from the incomprehensible emotions Roderich had brought him, but it had developed into something much more. Roderich was sharing Vash's space, the space he had long shared with Lili at Christmas time. He was taking Lili's spot at the dinner table, using Lili's spot on the couch in the evening, lightly teasing him about his mood as Lili always had. And where Lili's spot had always been in his heart, there was that horrible, insistent warm  _feeling_ that Roderich gave him, no matter how many barriers he put up or how much he tried to push the other man away.

And he really did try. Stubborn silence hung over every meal - which Vash had also put much less care into preparing than he had just two weeks earlier - with Roderich's constant attempts at lighthearted conversation just as doggedly shot down by Vash's own surliness. Time spent in the same room was tense and avoided if at all possible, no matter how downtrodden Roderich looked when Vash would pull away and leave him alone on the couch. In the evening Vash went to bed as early as possible to avoid any further needless contact, preferring instead to lay awake in the pain of mourning alone in bed than suffer in the company of Roderich. After all, it was Roderich who brought him a strange and intolerable new pain, not Lili's memory. Better to suffer what he knew, rather than to try to relearn how to cope all over again.

However, despite his best efforts, Vash could not fully stomp out the burning ache in his heart that Roderich brought with him each passing day. Instead, it ate at him, hungry for temperance and finding none within the raging storm of emotions that filled Vash's soul. His campaign against Roderich grew harsher and harsher until it bordered on vindictive, and there became a point where Vash went from hating seeing Roderich in pain to being comforted by it.

In the end, it only took two and a half weeks of cohabitation for Vash to snap. It happened over supper on a dark and frigid night in mid December, with the both of them staring silently down at the half-attempted meal that Vash had placed in front of them. The distance between them was even more pronounced than it had been when they had met in September, and Vash was simultaneously hurt and comforted by it. Roderich's eyes occasionally flicked up to meet his own, which he did his best to rebuke with the harshest glare he could manage. The hurt look on Roderich's face as he did was like a shot of novacaine - bringing first pain, then an uncomfortable and unnatural sense of relief.

"So do you have any plans for the holiday?" Roderich asked suddenly. His head was lifted in a show of confidence that Vash had not seen in several days. Violet eyes shone with a level of determination that they rarely held, and Vash could feel himself retreating behind his guards at the sight. He did not like where this was going.

When it became obvious that Vash was not going to answer, Roderich tried again. "Do you have any Christmas traditions that you usually honor this time of year?" Vash's eyes widened, and hurt panged dully in his chest as he brought his gaze up to meet Roderich's own. What didn't Roderich get about Vash's desire to be alone? Why didn't he get that Christmas was his and Lili's, and theirs alone? Why was he still trying so damn hard, and why did that effort still have such an effect on Vash, no matter how much he fought it?

"I was, well, thinking," Roderich continued as Vash stared. His speech seemed markedly less confident than it had just moments before, but Vash could see in his face that he had not lost hope just yet. That was wrong. If Vash had no hope, neither should Roderich. "Uh, that maybe we could do some of your Christmas traditions together, since I'm here. Of course, if you don't have any, my family has quite the long list of holiday practices that we could engage in…" Roderich trailed off, looking at Vash expectantly.

If Vash had not been taken aback by Roderich's words previously, he certainly was now. Grief, which had been a dull yet nagging presence over the past few weeks, suddenly took center stage, insistently demanding to be felt as memories of past Christmases flooded his mind and drew the mourning out of the depths of his heart. Rage, too, welled up within him as Roderich spoke, because how  _dare_ he ask to be included in Vash's holiday traditions? How  _dare_ he come and take Lili's spot in his heart, and then move on to try to take her place in his life? How  _dare_ he try and bring Vash out of his shell and make him vulnerable, make him  _want,_ make him  _long_ for him and fill him with such unbearable agony for it that he could barely sleep at night?

"Get out," Vash whispered. His hands were balled white-knuckled in the tablecloth, and he was trembling violently as he struggled for control for his emotions.  _I just want to be alone,_ he thought desperately.  _If he's not here, I'm not replacing her. I can be safe if only I am_ alone.

Roderich went cold.

"Pardon me?" he asked in a shaking voice. He knew what Vash had said as soon as the words had slipped past his friend's thin lips, but he wanted desperately to believe that he had not meant it. That he had misspoken. That he was joking.

One look at Vash - shaking, breathing unevenly, and hunched over - was enough to tell him that it was no joke, but he was determined to hang on to hope as long as he could.

"I said to get out," Vash repeated. The words hung in the air between them, giving it a delicate tension that was sure to break at any moment.

Roderich flinched as if physically struck. The world spun around him, and his mind raced to justify what he had just heard. Surely Vash didn't really want him to go. Surely Vash understood that Roderich was just trying to help, that Vash meant the  _world_  to him and that leaving him here was simply not an option anymore. Surely Vash knew that what he was doing was wrong.

"Vash, please…" Roderich began.

The tension shattered.

"I said GET OUT!" Vash roared, jumping to his feet sweeping his arm across the table violently as he gave his command. Dishes flew from their places and clattered to the floor, where they fell to pieces underfoot. Roderich winced at the discordant sound that they made, but kept his eyes on Vash. Always on Vash.

"Why?" Roderich asked pleadingly. He stared up at his old friend, searching his all-too-familiar face for any sign of relenting, of the softness that Roderich knew was in there, of the bond that he thought they had reforged between them.  _Where is it?_ Roderich thought desperately.  _It shouldn't be like this. Even if things have been a little tougher lately, we fixed things. He's supposed to trust me now. He's supposed to_ care  _now_. However, the longer he looked, the harder it was to deny the truth - he could find nothing but anger in Vash's face.

Vash remained silent, staring down at him with green eyes that blazed with hurt, set in a face that was etched with anger and distrust. Roderich's cold panic from before froze over, sealing him within the terrible chill of shock. What had he done to deserve this? Where had he gone so terribly wrong?

"What have I done Vash?" Roderich begged. He felt the heat of tears threatening, but refused to allow them fall for fear of losing himself completely to the tempest that was raging beneath the icy surface of his fears. As it was, he too had begun to tremble with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Why must I go?"

Roderich's voice broke on the word go, and with it the rest of Vash's composure. His pained expression went dark in an instant, and even in the brief moment between the change and Vash's reply Roderich experienced an entirely new fear.

This time, he feared not for Vash, but himself.

"Because I don't want you here," Vash growled. He remained unusually still as he spoke, but his entire body conveyed a terrifying authority that even his violent rage could not hope to replicate.

"You don't…" Roderich trailed off in utter confusion as the words sunk in. Vash didn't want him. It had never properly occurred to him that Vash might ever cease to desire his company. They had had their falling outs, yes, but even in the days when Vash had thought Roderich had betrayed and abandoned him he had been willing to be in his presence. Now, though… Vash had no desire to be around him. None.

"I don't want you," Vash repeated, and Roderich felt himself shatter in that instant.

The tears came then, pouring down Roderich's cheeks and melting away the protective layer of shock that had been holding him together. His body, which had been shaking slightly before, began to quake in earnest as it was overtaken by violent sobs, and he felt as if he were drowning. The strange feeling Vash had been causing him the past few weeks remained lodged solidly within his heart, but instead of lifting his spirits, it dragged them down and pinned them under the oppressive weight of agony. For a few moments, it was all Roderich could do was stare blankly up at Vash, waiting for an answer he knew he would never get while his heart splintered into endless unrecognizable pieces.

Then, he started to move.

He felt strangely detached from his body as he stood up, still shaking, and began to leave. He staggered unsteadily from the table, ignoring his crutches as they clattered to the ground behind him as he walked as well as the pain that shot up his bad leg with each feeble step. He could feel Vash's eyes on him as he made his way towards the door but could not bring himself to look back. He could not bear to meet Vash's gaze just now, not after those eyes had met his own and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome there. He was already hurting enough.

It seemed like there was an eternity between him and the front door, and he was aware that with each passing step he took, he was growing further from Vash. Yet, when he finally reached it, he found himself relieved to be crossing the threshold of the house out into the open world. The evening was bitterly cold, and Roderich could not help but think that it suited him nicely as he took his first steps out into the frigid air, still pursuing his escape from the source of agony that stood at the table inside. He wanted nothing more than to run from that place, to flee the hideous weight in his chest that he knew was the fault of Vash, to hide from the world for a very long time after.

As it was, he made it to the end of the pathway before his leg gave out beneath him. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, his reflexes failing to catch him as he stumbled flat onto his face into the snow. Behind him, he could hear the slamming of a door, and then the smashing of porcelain.

If anything, hearing Vash's own pain was the worst part of all this. Roderich did not move from his sprawled position in the snow, lacking the will to do anything but sob into the unforgiving winter that cradled him in its icy arms. If only he could walk, could move, he could escape the noise as Vash once again rampaged through his house and spare himself the guilt of being the cause of such anguish for whatever reason. If only he could move, he could focus on himself, ignore that strange sensation that still nagged him to run back inside and make things right in whatever way possible.

However, he could not walk. Thus, he remained in the front lawn, embraced by the cold, physically unable to leave, but emotionally unable to stay.


	8. Chapter 8 Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood Music: "Have We Lost" -- Flyleaf

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

Liz's voice was hesitant, her eyes concerned. Roderich sighed heavily and settled even further into the nest of pillows she had helped him construct on his couch. She could see his resistance written all over his face, yet she could not help but pry just a little. Having picked him up out of the snow, driven him home and literally carried him up the stairs, she felt she deserved _some_  explanation. If not that, then surely their long standing friendship, no matter how complicated, surely warranted some sort of response. She had not seen Roderich look so upset since the day he had realized going to Austria for high school would mean leaving behind his beloved middle school friend. She hurt for him.

"Roderich?" She prompted. She reached out and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, which he barely turned to look at. He looked beyond hurt at this point - he was broken, the dullness in his face illustrating a damage to his psyche she could not even begin to imagine. "Please. I at least need to know why I had to help dethaw you at ten pm because you happened to be lying in someone's lawn in the snow."

"Vash kicked me out of the house," he replied, his voice hollow. There was pain evident in his voice, both from the sprained leg that was propped up before him and from whatever emotional trauma he had incurred. Liz's eyes widened. How had she not recognized the little white house on Pine Street? She had certainly followed the boys there enough times in her childhood, if only to get the laugh of lobbing a few errant pebbles at Roderich as he walked with his constant companion and protector.

"What were you doing at Vash's house?" she breathed. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know, looking at the state Roderich was in.

Roderich sighed, staring blankly down at his half-frozen hands. A lump rose in Liz's throat as she looked at him, and she was overwhelmed by the simultaneous desires to give Roderich a huge hug and to test out her new boxing techniques on Vash's face.

"He was taking care of me," he told her finally, his voice dead.

"Well that's not much of a surprise," Liz replied without thinking. After all, for the entire time she had known them, Vash had been Roderich's devoted caretaker, defender, and friend. However, that was at a time when Roderich and Vash had been friends, she realized. And she distinctly remembered getting letters home from Roderich during his time in Austria mourning the fact that Vash had not written him once. Having gone to a different high school, she never had had the chance to confront Vash about it, and so she had just assumed they'd had a falling out. "But wait, since when are you guys friends?"

"I don't know if we are," Roderich admitted, his head falling to disguise the tears that had begun to stream down his face. Bereaved he may have been, he still didn't want Liz to see him cry any more than she already had. "I'd thought I had fixed everything, that he was doing better... "

"You mean since Lili died," Liz breathed. It had not even occurred to her that Roderich was dealing with Vash's grief. She eyed him first in understanding, then in renewed confusion as something else occurred to her. "But wait, you weren't at her funeral."

"No. But Ludwig called me after and had me come take care of him," Roderich said miserably, staring blankly down at his hands. "I didn't even know what had happened to Lili… I… found him with a gun in his mouth…."

"Oh my God," Liz gasped, her gut clenching at the thought. She was not particularly attached to Vash, for all that she had adored his sister, but the idea of him committing suicide… it was too much for her to think about.

"And after that… I kind of came to take care of him. He needed someone," Roderich continued shakily. "And I wanted to be that someone."

"Why?" Liz asked, tilting her head to one side in confusion. She knew that Roderich could certainly be a kind soul, but full blown caretaking was not something she really saw the musician ever doing. Especially knowing that he had likely had a falling out with Vash.

"Because…" Roderich trailed off, throwing his head back in an act of sheer emotion and staring desperately at the ceiling. Remembering himself, he quickly allowed it to fall, and forced his emotion to something near neutral as he considered Liz's question. "Because I… God, why did I?"

The story came out in full then, told through in the tightest voice Liz had ever heard him use. How Roderich had come to meet Vash again, how he had desired to fix their friendship, how he had come to draw Vash back out of himself, bit by bit.

And then, how Vash had withdrawn back within his own world, and how it had broken Roderich and everything he had worked for.

"I just don't know what I was feeling," Roderich admitted when his finished his narrative. His hands were clutched to his chest, clawing at his sternum through the heavy fabric of his sweater as if he could remove the source of pain within.

"Roderich?" Liz put in hesitantly, unsure if it was her place to clear up his confusions. Roderich had always been particularly dense when it came to his own emotions, but this? This was beyond reasonable, even for him. "Do you remember when we dated when I studied abroad in Austria junior year? The reason we broke up?"

Roderich looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing. "No offense Liz, but now is not the time to bring up  _that_  particular failure. We're both gay, that's fine, we're friends now and that whole awkwardness should be left behind us. This right now is hard enough without any reminders of my past difficulties with interpersonal relationships." Liz could not help but smirk at his reaction - his defensiveness was far more amusing than the discomfort he usually displayed when they discussed their individual sexualities. It was too difficult to tease him when he got awkward.

However, she did not intend to embarrass him just now. Liz squeezed his shoulder and gave him a meaningful look, trying her best to appear as non-offensive as possible. "Well first of all, no, I'm bi, I just  _prefer_  women. Don't tell Gil that though, he'll get all insecure," she intoned, her tone threatening. "But back to the real point here. While I mostly like women, you  _only_  like men. Vash, coincidentally, falls into that category," she informed him with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Roderich's eyes went wide, any sorrow in his expression exchanged for utter confusion as he stared up at her.

"You cannot possibly be implying what I think you are!" Roderich stuttered, his characteristic indignant manner returning. His cheeks were a furious shade of red, and his entire body had gone defensively rigid. Liz sighed.

"I certainly can," she said, her tone turning serious. "C'mon Roderich, think about it. You said yourself you've never felt like this about anyone before. I know Vash has always been special to you, but really, bringing him food every single day? Spraining your knee skiing just to make him happy?  _Living with him?_ " She paused for effect, her emerald gaze heavy with intent as she stared at her friend. "Roderich. Why did you do all that?"

Roderich fell silent. Why _had_  he done all that he had for Vash? Surely bringing food to a man who was bereaved did not have to have…  _other_  connotations, didn't it? Roderich was a gentleman, a good friend, and nothing more.

 _But if that were the case, why did I keep at it even when he resisted? Even when it was clear that we weren't friends?_  Roderich wondered. It was undeniable that he had been drawn to Vash since the day they had been reunited, but nostalgia for an old friendship only went so far to explain the magnetic hold on him that Vash had possessed for months now.

And the hold was indeed magnetic. Roderich's mind flew through all his memories of the past few months, marvelling at how they all seemed centered on the focal point of Vash. It was undeniable that the blond had an iron hold on his attentions, and inexplicable draw, but what did it mean? The centrality of Vash to his life was not even the most concerning thing about it all - it was the way Roderich had reacted to it. Instead of questioning his motivations, he had simply followed this draw for the vain hope that he might be able to bring a smile to Vash's face. He really did have a lovely smile….

The image of his friend, his face bright with joy as it had not been in months, overwhelmed him for a few brief moments, and he could not help but allow himself to bask in his own imaginings. The heaviness in his chest lifted, allowing that feeling to take on its unbearable lightness once again, giving his heart wings.

Then, as suddenly as it had taken off, it dropped in sickening realization.

"That's absurd," Roderich sputtered. His hands, still stiff with cold, flew to his chest as if they could somehow tame the silliness occurring within its cavity. Liz smirked, having no doubt in her mind exactly what Roderich was referring to.

"Why is it absurd?" she asked. "It only seems natural to me." Roderich looked up at her, bafflement giving way to despair once again as he took in her teasing expression.

"It's absurd," he repeated, his voice cracking slightly on the word. He could feel his hard fought dignity slipping away, something that scared him almost as much as his recent realization. "It's absurd-" Another crack, this time more severe, "-to love someone who hates you." He dissolved into tears, shaking so violently with sobs that he tipped forward into Liz's chest. His mind protested the ridiculously emotive behavior, but his body refused to adhere to its logic, continuing on its doleful lamentations without any mind for its owner. It was the best he could do to not beat his hands against the back of the couch in frustration.

Any trace of antagonism flew from Liz's mind as she hugged her friend even closer to her heart, stroking his hair gently and making soothing noises as he cried. Once she was sure that he had cried himself out enough, Liz gently peeled Roderich off of her and pushed him back so she could look him in the eye. His face was red and puffy with crying, but he still managed to meet her gaze with as much dignity as he could muster. She sighed.

"Roderich, Vash doesn't hate you," she informed him calmly. Roderich shook his head and attempted to shrug off the hands she had placed on his shoulders. Her grip tightened, locking him in place. He looked away.

"Roderich," Liz murmured, her voice soft. No response. "Roderich," she repeated, somewhat more insistently. Still no answer. "Roderich! Look at me!"

Roderich's head snapped up at the sharpness in her voice, a guarded look in his eyes as he again met her gaze. "What do you know, Elizaveta? You didn't hear him when he told me to leave. He told me he doesn't want me," he snapped.

"I know you, and I know Vash, and I know what you told me. He doesn't hate you Roderich. He just doesn't trust you yet."

"And what on earth can I do to earn his trust now? What have I done wrong? What more could I possibly do?" Roderich demanded, sounding more desperate than angry. Liz let him go and leaned back into the arm of the couch, a thoughtful look on her face.

"How have you managed to get through to him before? What convinced him to let you in as much as he has? 'Cause both you and I know getting Vash to open up is far from easy." Roderich frowned slightly, but dutifully racked his brain for an answer. After several moments, he reached up to remove his glasses and rub his eyes tiredly. Liz was sure that if she had looked closer, she would have been able to see tears being wiped away under his delicate fingers.

"Gestures. Big ones," Roderich answered finally, his voice heavy with resignation. "But there aren't any left. I've tried everything I could." He paused, turning his head up to give Liz the most pleading look he could muster. "Don't tell me I could have done more."

"You probably couldn't have," she agreed, her face still stony with concentration. She toyed with a curl absentmindedly as she considered what Roderich had said. "Not back then, anyways." She fell silent, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly. Roderich watched her with a slightly concerned expression, both interested and afraid of what her inquisitive expression might imply. Then, her face lit up, and her green eyes shone with triumph. She straightened and reached out to place her hands on Roderich's shoulders yet again, a sly smile on her face. "But that doesn't mean there's nothing you can do now."

"I haven't the faintest clue what that could be," Roderich admitted, somewhat unnerved by her sudden change in demeanor. He never liked when Liz smiled like that. It usually meant he was about to be put in a very uncomfortable situation.

"Well, you said he likes grand gestures, right? You could tell him!" She enthused. She shook him slightly, just in case the genius of her plan couldn't get through to him solely through words.

Roderich went cold. Yes, that smile implied uncomfortable situations indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first half of this chapter, so don't worry, Vash's perspective and the confession will be up and coming soon!


	9. Chapter 8, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My creative space: Faun: Thymian und Rosmarin, Saltatio Mortis: Letzte Worte, Nightwish: The Islander

 

Roderich took a deep breath and watched his breath color in the air as he exhaled. The cold wind whipped around him, lashing at his bare face and cutting through his thin coat. He stared mutely up at the door in front of him, trying to focus on the green color rather than the dull throb of his bad leg and the sharp pain in his heart. He had, against his better judgement, walked over to Vash’s house early in the morning almost immediately after Liz had left, despite her stern instructions to remain in bed and not visit Vash until she had returned from her martial arts competition. The walk over had been excruciating on his sprained knee, but necessary to his sanity nonetheless. He had lain in bed all night thinking about the nature of his feelings and what he felt he should do about them, finally concluding at the break of dawn that he needed to tell Vash what he felt. He needed to share his heart, because it was breaking within him. Vash needed to receive it, because his own was in a million pieces.

And so Roderich stood in the pale light of dawn at Vash’s doorstep, thoroughly broken and yet completely hopeful, ready to fully bare his heart.

Because Vash would accept nothing less.

Roderich rapped hard on the door with a bare hand, having been unable to find his gloves in his messy house. The sound was deadened by the wind, sounding dull and uninspiring to the listening ear. Roderich frowned, unnerved by how pathetic it was, and knocked again, harder this time. He needed to sound impressive and confident, not dull and weak. The sound cut through the air like a whip, shocking him. Better, he decided as he dropped his hand away, but still not as good as I would have wanted. He wanted to make everything about him seem impressive right now, knowing full well that anything less would get the door slammed in his face. He also knew that, with his crippled leg and and worried expression, impressive was the last adjective that described him.

Footsteps echoed dully from within the house, their rhythm harshly syncopated against the anxious pounding of Roderich’s heart. Roderich stood up straighter, drawing his shoulders back and adjusting his stance to make it more difficult to tell how heavily he was leaning on the stair banister to take weight off his leg. This is it, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath. He’ll be at the door in less than a minute now, and all I have to do is tell him that… that I…

He had rehearsed the line a thousand time in front of his mirror to the light of dawn’s first awakening, and yet suddenly he could not even picture himself saying it. I love you. It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to fix this. But now, standing in front of Vash’s door, knowing his old friend, his new love, was so close, it was caught in his throat. He was paralyzed.

It was in this frozen, terrified state, that Vash found Roderich as he opened the door, his eyes still murky with sleep. It took him several moments to register that the figure before him was in fact Roderich, but once he did, it was only sheer force of will that prevented him from following his instinctive urge to slam the door in the musician’s face. His heart protested angrily to the abuse that the sight of Roderich brought, but he could not ignore the fact that beneath its outward fury, it had also leapt with an emotion that strangely resembled joy when he had realized who it was standing in the doorway. And so Vash, too, stood paralyzed in the doorway, staring blankly forward at the man who had somehow taken ahold of his heart.

“May I come in?” Roderich asked quietly after several moments of tense silence, careful to hold his face in its usual neutral, dignified expression. He could not display any sign of weakness or relenting to Vash -- no, he had to be strong for him. He had to prove that he was worth the risk he was about to ask Vash to take.

Vash looked at Roderich warily, easily noting the other man’s carefully cool expression as they locked eyes. He had seen that look countless times over the past several months, yet for some reason the sight of it now made his heart ache. Roderich wasn’t neutral around him, not anymore. He shouldn’t be neutral. No, Roderich should come offering smiles and sympathetic glances and exasperated sighs and beautiful gazes of…

Beautiful? Vash’s chest seized as he cut off his own train of thought, slamming down on it before it could get out of control. No, he thought sternly to himself, forcefully drawing himself back into the present. I don’t want him here, and I certainly do not care how he looks at me. He is trying to take Lili’s place. I can’t let him take her from me. He shut his eyes briefly and pictured his sister, beautiful, vital, smiling, and let it fill his mind. That was what lightened his life. Not the man before him.

“No,” Vash hissed, moving to slam the door. Although his mind was overwhelmed with anger, his body had been hot with some other unfamiliar emotion since Roderich had arrived, one that caused him to hesitate long enough for the other man to stick his foot in the door. Tempted as he was to slam the door on the outstretched appendage, Vash knew that even in his current state he could never forgive himself for breaking Roderich’s foot. Instead, he glared angrily up at the other man, whose face had gone from neutral to fiercely determined in the moments Vash had taken to deliberate.

“I am coming in,” Roderich informed him, his expression leaving no room for argument. Vash blinked, thoroughly taken aback by the sudden show of will by the usually passive and gentle musician. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

Without waiting for a reply, Roderich pushed past Vash and limped heavily into the house, clearly expecting to be followed. Vash stared after him, sheer disbelief suspending his usual reactive rage as he watched Roderich make his way into the house. Unsure of what to make of the sudden change in the other man, he decided that the best course of action would be to follow him for the time being. After all, it wouldn’t take much to kick him out again once he regained his bearings.

“So what is this about, Roderich?” Vash asked once they had finally come to a stop. It had not escaped his notice that they were in the dining room again, and the setting was already setting his nerves back on edge. A sharp, angry defensiveness was rising steadily within him, simply waiting to be allowed to be released. He didn’t want Roderich here, not when he was trying to betray everything important to him and steal his sister’s memory away from him.

Roderich sighed, leaning heavily on the mantle behind him for balance as he adjusted his weight to allow for his bad leg. His face, Vash noted with a dark sense of interest, was decidedly less resolute than it had been just moments before, suddenly clouded with an emotion that looked suspiciously like doubt. For all his desire to keep his emotions as far from Roderich as possible, seeing him look that vulnerable for the second time in as many days did strange things to his heart, and he had to fight to maintain his stubborn protective neutrality. Even if it was not a smile, seeing that Roderich’s face did not bear that horrible distant look of indifference eased the harsh hurt within his chest he had felt when he had opened the door.

Stop it! Vash thought to himself angrily, shaking his head to clear it. I don’t care how he looks at me. I want to get this over with and then I want him gone. I can’t deal with him. He can’t replace Lily. He doesn’t deserve my time.

“What is this about?” Vash repeated when Roderich did not answer, even harsher this time.

“This is about us,” Roderich replied after several more moments of uncomfortable silence. His voice shook at first, but by the time he reached the word “us,” he had returned to that strange, uncharacteristic state of strength that he had possessed in the doorway. Vash’s eyes widened. Us? His heart, ever the traitor, fluttered slightly at the word. “This is about you. And me.” Roderich continued, seemingly oblivious to Vash’s reaction. “And you are going to listen to what I am going to say.”

Vash’s eyes narrowed at that, never having been one for taking orders. “And what makes you think that?”

“Because you need to hear it, and I need to say it,” Roderich retorted. He stood up straight, balancing precariously on his bad leg in what Vash saw as an attempt to look confident. Vash scowled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“And what makes you think that you know what I need?” he snarled.

Roderich looked at him, his eyes softening into an expression that too closely resembled fondness for Vash’s comfort. The unbearable fluttering in his chest strengthened, and he was unable to clamp down on it. Vash reacted instinctively, not willing to let Roderich tease at the strange emotion he was causing anymore.

“You don’t know anything about me, Roderich. Why can’t you get that I don’t want you here? You can’t tell me anything that would change that. I want to be alone.”

Roderich staggered as if physically struck by the force of Vash’s words, his bad knee buckling beneath him. Desperate to remain on his feet, he grasped wildly for the mantle behind him. Instead, he hit the vase.

The glass fell to the floor and shattered, the dead, rotten flowers within it scattering across the floor. Vash went cold, unable to tear his gaze away from the destruction that Roderich had caused. Roderich stared dumbly first at the flowers, then at Vash, his face a mask of horror.

“Vash, I…” he began, moving to begin to pick up the pieces.

Vash snapped.

“Get. OUT!” he roared, gesturing violently at the door. Roderich hesitated, and Vash dug in deeper. “You come into my life and try and earn my trust, but all you wanted to do was replace her! How dare you come in here and destroy all I have left of her? LEAVE!”

“No.” Roderich got to his feet slowly and unsteadily, but when he finally straightened he was a totally different man. His shoulders were squared and his head was held high, and he was nothing if not imposing, forceful, and impassioned. His eyes blazed, and the look he gave Vash froze him in place. “I didn’t come into your life to replace her. I didn’t earn your trust in order to erase her. I wanted to be with you long before she died, and I will continue to want to be with you for ages after. I am not trying to get you to forget her, Vash. I am trying to let you live without her.”

“I don’t want to live without her,” Vash sobbed, his voice breaking harshly on the final word. “And you, why do you think you can do anything about it? Why should I trust you? You’ll disappear someday too, just like before! You’ll just leave me alone, and then I won’t even have Lili left.” His shoulders shook with sobs, but he managed to stand defiantly upright, staring at Roderich with angry, accusative eyes.

Roderich met his gaze evenly, a mixture of emotions churning wildly in his chest. The question -- why should Vash trust him? -- stung as it always had. And, as always, he had a thousand answers, a thousand things he had done over the years, or even just the past several months, that he could offer as proof to why Vash should believe in him. However, none of those multitudes of replies occurred to him just then, and his mind finally supplied the words he had been struggling to say since he had arrived at Vash’s door.

“Because I love you.”

Vash took a few unsteady steps back from Roderich, totally in shock. He felt detached from his body, and as the shock slowly set in he fell heavily to his knees, unable to contain himself any longer. He was furious, he was elated, he was bereaved, he was… loved? The strange feeling that had been weakly fluttering within his chest had taken wing, but he could not bring himself to fly with it. All he could focus on were the dead lilies on the floor, and the hole within him that tied him solidly to the ground and the abyss.

“I can’t…” Vash whispered, his eyes brimming anew. He wanted, although he could not say what, but he was gripped by the insistent instinct to flee, to hide, to protect himself. He was filled with joy, with that feeling (maybe it was love as well?), but also with a cold terror, and the familiar agony of grief. And it only got worse the longer Roderich stood there, staring hopefully down at him. “Please…” he rasped. “Just go.”

He did his best to ignore Roderich’s sharp intake of breath, the way his whole body stiffened and his face broke down into an agony that was only a fraction of what Vash had inflicted the previous night. Part of him wanted to reach out to the other man, to take back all his unkind words just to bring a smile back to that face, but he could not act on it. It was too dangerous that way.

So he let him go, the emptiness in his chest yawning wider with each retreating footstep until Roderich was gone and Vash was empty. And when Vash was sure he had ruined everything but his own perfect isolation, he dragged himself to his feet and walked unsteadily upstairs, numb to everything but the sound of his own breathing as he grew closer and closer to his goal.

He stopped in front of the heavy oak door and stood there for several long moments, simply staring. With the flowers gone, the untouched sanctuary of Lili’s room was all he had left now of the life he had once had. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and opened the door into the past, desperate to go back to better days, to prove that she didn’t have to be gone. That he didn’t have to live without her.

The door creaked as it opened, and light, golden and soft, poured from the hallway into the dark room, illuminating everything from the deep pink carpet to her dark blue bedspread.

As well as the creamy envelope that lay on top of it.

Vash couldn’t take it anymore. In a daze, he staggered blindly forward and collapsed onto Lili’s bed, clutching the twenty-sixth letter to his chest as he fell into blissful unawareness. 


	10. Chapter 10

The days passed in a dark haze for Roderich.

The weight of heartbreak (because he could find no other word for the pressure that squeezed the very life out of his chest) bore heavily down on him, making it hard for him to move, to breathe, to live. He did not touch his piano. The idea of eating repulsed him, and the thought of leaving his apartment was almost sickening. Instead he lay motionless on his threadbare old couch that he was too cheap to replace, his bad leg propped up, running through the events of that terrible day over and over again, agonizing over what could have been done differently. Agonizing over how he could have been happy, maybe.

But he had ruined it all.

It took him nearly a week to properly stand and make himself something real to eat. He had ordered delivery every day since he had stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, eyes awash with burning tears and heart numb. He was uncharacteristically unconcerned with the cost, handing the delivery man money without even bothering to check that he was overpaying him (he was). Had he been right of mind, he would have likely argued that eating only one meal a day realistically probably cost less than his normal diet anyways. If only he had been right of mind.

He made three startling discoveries in his trip to the kitchen. One, that his leg had finally returned to normal. Two, that he had absolutely no food in the house. Third, that it was Christmas eve.

He stared at the calendar, which hung on the door of the fridge that he had just slammed shut in frustration upon finding it empty, mentally calculating how long it had been since he had last seen it. How on earth did it get to be Christmas without my noticing? Roderich thought incredulously, although deep down he already knew the answer. Suddenly overcome, he sank to the ground and sat with his back against the appliance, staring desperately up at the ceiling. He had never thought he would be alone on Christmas. Rather, he had imagined Christmas in a very different place, a small white house with a grumpy, beautiful--

No, Roderich thought to himself, already feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. I’m not doing this right now. I need help. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed the familiar digits, still memorized from that summer when they had called each other every night, despite having seen each other all day. He thought a silent prayer as he brought it to his ear and listened to it ring. Please, just pick up….

“Hello, Liz?”

 

~oOo~

 

“I still don’t see why you had to bring him,” Roderich muttered to Liz. His eyes were locked on Gilbert -- his younger cousin, Liz’s boyfriend, and an insufferably energetic nutball. Said nutball was enthusiastically running around Roderich’s apartment with christmas decorations in hand, gleefully adding sparkle and “Christmas cheer” wherever he saw fit.

“It’s Christmas Eve, I can’t exactly leave my boyfriend home by himself,” she pointed out. She and Roderich sat on the couch, both of them holding steaming mugs of cocoa that Gilbert had made while Roderich had (quite tearfully) explained the situation to her. Having sensed the mood for once in his life, Gilbert had decided to make himself busy making the apartment look festive while the two talked about “girl stuff.”

“He has a brother,” Roderich replied with a tired sigh. Roderich didn’t dislike Gilbert as much as he found him irritating, but his current emotional state left very little room for patience with Gilbert’s antics.

“Yeah but Ludwig is a stick in the mud. Anyways he’s out with Feliciano tonight,” she supplied easily. “Just kick back and relax, he’s decorating your damn house and letting me shower you with attention instead of him.”

“Yeah, because I am totally awesome,” Gilbert put in, overhearing. Roderich smiled faintly and gave a rueful shake of his head.

“I guess it is pretty… awesome, if that’s the term people are using nowadays, of you two to come and do this for me. I truly appreciate it,” he said, making a point to look them both in the eye to show that he meant it. Liz smiled, and Gilbert flashed him a disconcertingly white grin.

“No need to be so formal, Roddy! Loosen up, it’s Christmas!” he said, moving to stand over the pair on the couch. His hands were on his hips, and he was fairly coated in tinsel.

Roderich rolled his eyes. “I will not be participating in another one of your schemes to find my so called ‘wild side,’ Gilbert. This isn’t a family Christmas party, so I deem myself off limits to your tomfoolery.”

Liz snickered. “Now now, boys. Gil love, Roderich and I are not done with our talk,” she told her boyfriend.

“But Liiiiiiz,” he whined. “It would be totally awesome to get Roderich to act less proper and shit, especially if he’s sad about your girly bullshit conversation.”

“You can have him when I am done with him.” Roderich squawked in protest, but was ignored. “For now though, I think the fire place could use more tinsel,” she said in such a way that it was clearly not a suggestion.

Gilbert’s eyes sparkled wickedly. “More tinsel, huh? Awesome,” he said, running back for the box.

“I suppose it’s good he’s no longer violent with his enthusiasm, at least,” Roderich commented dryly, watching him go.

“He’s much better than when we were kids, that’s for sure,” Liz replied, sipping her cocoa. “We were both such bullies back then.” She sighed, her face briefly awash with nostalgia before she seemed to remember why she was there. “But this isn’t about Gil and me. Are you sure you’re fine?” she asked for the fifth time that night. They had already gone over all that had happened, the pitiful state Roderich had been reduced to included, but Liz was convinced there was still more to be done to help her old friend.

“Well, no I’m not really fine, but that’s why you’re here. The point is that I will be fine.”

"Yeah but how are you going to get from 'not fine' back to 'fine?'" Liz asked, cocking an eyebrow. She knew all too well about Roderich’s stubbornness, which made him as prone to long bouts of pouting as it did to long ill-founded pursuits of angry Swiss men.

"That I am not entirely sure about," Roderich admitted, scratching the back of his head and smiling sheepishly. "I tried all my usual methods of making myself happy but none of them worked. I can't even make myself play anymore -- the music no longer clicks with me."

"Ever tried writing your own?" Liz asked, tilting her head to the side questioningly. Roderich shook his head.

"No, nothing I wrote could ever compare to the works of the great masters. I would much rather study their genius than fuss over my own mediocre creativity," he said, sounding more like himself than Liz had heard all evening. She laughed.

"Oh Roderich that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," Liz told him with a fond smile. "Just listen to yourself. The point isn't to be as good as Chopin or Mozart, it's to make your own stamp on music. Anyways, writing music isn't just about impressing people -- writing music is something you do for yourself. If you can't 'click' with already written music, then write music you can click with. You're the one who always tells me music is only good if your heart is in it. Put your heart into your music, each little piece of it, and you may very well do something great."

Roderich looked at her hesitantly, unsure of how to respond. Write music? Such a thing was totally beyond a musician of his skill level, surely. If he couldn't find heart in the music of others, then maybe he wasn't meant for music after all.

"Now don't give me that sad 'I shouldn't be a pianist if I can't click with piano music' look," Liz chided, her smile dissolving into a disapproving frown. Roderich’s eyes widened; had he really been so obvious? "And yes, I can read you that well, in case you were wondering. If anything, see it as a way to heal before you go back to playing your normal rep. Really I don't see anything bad about my proposal."

Heal. Roderich's mind locked onto the word as it passed through Liz's lips, marveling at the simplicity of it. That’s what he needed -- to heal. It was really that straightforward. And he supposed if he had to write some mediocre music to do that, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

“I… suppose I could give that a try,” he murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with his index finger. Liz grinned and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, rocking them both back and forth cheerfully.

“That’s what I like to hear!” she exclaimed, sounding nothing less than enthusiastic.

“I see Gilbert has rubbed off on you some,” Roderich muttered with a roll of his eyes, peeling Liz’s arm off of him and depositing it delicately in her lap. He had no issue being close to her, no, but he didn’t really want to be celebrating just yet. He was still hurting.

“Hey, I heard that!” Gilbert complained, looking over his shoulder to shoot a pouting look at his cousin. Roderich stared back with an less-than-amused expression. It was hard to take Gilbert’s protest seriously while he was continuing to throw tinsel all over Roderich’s mantel.

Liz giggled as she watched them both, delighted to see that Roderich was not so far gone that he had started to tolerate Gilbert. “There’s nothing wrong with him rubbing off on me,” she chided, nudging him gently with her elbow.

“Yeah, you should hang out with us more! Our combined awesome might be the cure you need for your weird feelings problems, plus you could totally benefit from chilling out a little,” Gilbert cut in. His eyes glowed with excitement, which struck Roderich as rather terrifying due to his uncannily red irises.

“I will have to… think about that offer before I take you up on it,” Roderich said, suppressing a shudder, and he would swear on his piano that the two of them rolled their eyes at him simultaneously.

“You think about it,” they chorused with matching evil grins. Roderich sighed and sank into the couch as far as he could while they high fived over their like-mindedness. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing their antics had made him smile just yet. However, as the night wore on he wasn’t able to deny anyone that he had a smile on his face, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

~oOo~

 

The sun woke Vash gently on Christmas morning. He blinked sleepily several times, slowly allowing wakefulness to take him. He knew he would have several moments before the full effect of being awake would set in -- the awareness, the urge to move, the sensation of being just a little too warm to stay snuggled up under the covers.

The aching.

The aching in his chest had been a constant thing in his waking hours since that day that Roderich had left. Some days it was so bad he was almost tempted to open that perfect white envelope Roderich had left him, others it simply drove him to tears. Each day it drove him to stand by the window and watch, wait, hope, for Roderich to come back.

But no matter how much he wanted, he could not bring himself to go after Roderich himself. As much as he may have felt light (with hope, maybe?), he also felt scared, betrayed, bereaved. It did not matter that he did not admit these things to himself, no, only that they impeded him. Leadened by the weight of pains and desires unacknowledged, Vash’s feet would not carry him where he most needed to be.

Finally awake, Vash kicked off the covers of his bed and placed his feet on the cold wood of the floor, allowing the chill to jolt the final remnants of sleep out of him. He had barely left his room all week, wandering out into the rest of the house only for the barest necessities. Today, however, he was determined to do more than stare out the window for a man who was not coming. Today, Vash decided, was going to be a change.

Vash carried himself down the stairs carefully, acutely aware of how weak his habits had left him. That would have to be the first thing that changed -- he could hardly be strong if his body was in such poor shape. I’ll have to cook something, then, he thought to himself. After all, takeout is far too expensive and I don’t have Roderich to cook for m-- He cut the train of thought off rather abruptly, annoyed that the musician had managed to weasel his way into his thoughts yet again. Caught up in his irritation, Vash hardly noticed that he had come to the bottom of the staircase until he tried to take another step down and tripped over a shoe he had carelessly left in the hallway days prior.

Vash swore colorfully as he hit the ground, the hard wood disagreeing angrily with the sharp angles of his too-thin body. He was struggling to stand, profanities falling easily off his lips when he saw it. A small parcel lay by the door beneath the mail slot, wrapped in festive green paper and tied up with a violet bow. Vash quieted, staring at the package with wary eyes. Who had sent him a gift? And why?

He walked over to the fallen package, taking care not to trip over any more errant shoes. Picking it up, he discovered a small card nestled under the ribbon bow, written in the printed script of an online gift company.

You can carry her without it being a burden. Merry Christmas, Vash.

-Roderich

Vash was not sure which thing he should react to first. Christmas, the ambiguous note, the fact that Roderich had clearly bought him a present despite their falling out… It was all too much for him to handle at once. Gripped by instinct, he threw the gift against the wall and took several steps back from it, glaring at it angrily. How dare Roderich mention her, how dare Roderich try and reconcile them again? Hadn’t he been clear enough with his no?

However, his anger dissolved away as quickly as it came, and he dropped to his knees to retrieve the fallen gift. He hoped he had not harmed the contents. Carefully, as if afraid to do anymore damage, he untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper to reveal a simple white box. Vash raised his eyebrows, not really sure what he had been expecting, but went to open it nonetheless.

It was a lily. Vash's breath caught in his throat as he opened the box to find the silver pendant, which was just as delicate and beautifully wrought as the living blossom itself. He shuddered to think what Roderich had spent on it. Normally he would have been irritated to receive such a feminine gift, but as he lifted the necklace out of the box he could not bring himself to feel anything but gratitude. There, dangling on a chain long enough to allow the flower to hang next to his heart, was exactly what he needed. It was light -- it would not bother him, perhaps sometimes he would even forget he was wearing it. But it would always be there, just as Lili would always be with him.

He remained motionless for several moments, staring at the silver jewelry with wide eyes as if trying to process what to do next. Then, he slipped the chain over his neck and allowed the pendant to hand over his heart, shivering slightly at the cool feel of the metal against his bare skin. His hand reached up to touch it, the pads of his fingers memorizing the flower's every detail as his mind wandered to other things.

     Roderich had outdone himself yet again. Vash knew this very well. However, what he did not know was what to do next. He wanted, he knew, but what he was not sure. That strange feeling that Roderich brought out was pulsing yet again in Vash's heart, moving his lifeblood and burning his veins. The want, he realized, was for Roderich. He wasn't sure what that meant, or what to do with it, but it was certainly a start. And now, with Lili always by his heart, without him having to fear that she may lose her place to whatever odd wanting he felt for Roderich, perhaps he could begin to puzzle out what all these strange feelings meant.

Vash was not ready to face Roderich yet. But for the very first time, he was sure that someday he would be. And he decided, with the lily pendant still clasped in his fingers, that the process of getting to that point would start with the letter.

 

~oOo~

 

Roderich woke up on the 26th of December feeling oddly light. There was a dull ache in his chest as always, but the stifling weight of it had gone and left him with a much more bearable feeling. Unsure of this sudden change, he slowly got to his feet, surveying his surroundings as he went. The day before had been a quiet one -- he had opened the packaged presents from his relatives that had piled up by his door,  and then spent the rest of the day trying to follow Liz’s advice. After hours of no success, he had determined that composing was not a skill he had possessed and gone straight to bed. Now, however, he wasn’t so sure of that. He felt very strange as he surveyed his apartment -- was a disgusting mess, buried under too many decorations and a week’s worth of grime and poor cleaning habits. However, that was not what concerned him. His preoccupation was rather with his hands, more specifically his fingers as they brushed over the mess that surrounded him. They had regained that familiar itch to move and dance over ivory, one that he had sworn they’d lost completely just days earlier. It was as if a curtain had been lifted, and a day in his life had been born anew.

So Roderich began to pick up his life, cleaning his apartment until it was immaculate as it had always been. And when he was finally satisfied with the state of it, his feet carried him to the piano without even being told to, depositing him on the bench before the pale ivories before he even knew where he was. The itching in his fingers suddenly became unbearable, and in a sudden impulse he threw them onto the keys, where they danced across the ivory following a melody he had never heard before. This is composing, he realized as the music spilled out of him unbidden, unknown. As he played, the pain in his heart did not burden him but rather painted itself into the music, and the weight of sorrow fell away.

And in that moment, he knew that he would be able to heal.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Creative Space:   
> Fix You - Coldplay, And So It Goes - Billy Joel

Vash stared down at the envelope, trying to pretend the way it shook in his vision was not due to the nervous trembling of his hands. He stood motionless save for his anxious quaking in his dining room, holding Roderich’s final message in between his thumbs and index fingers. He had decided today, as he had every day since Christmas, that today would be the day he would open the letter. And, just like every day since Christmas, he found himself unable to break the seal and look inside.

He threw the letter on the table and turned away, his face burning with shame and anger. He had been doing so well in every aspect but this -- cooking for himself, exercising, cleaning the house. He had even called the university to arrange enrollment in classes. He was even wearing the necklace, even though it had physically pained him to do so for the first couple days. Life was going back to normal, should be returning to normal, yet he remained stuck. Caught as he was in fear, Vash could not move forward.

“Why can’t I just open it?” Vash demanded, gripped by a sudden feeling of frustration. He spun and slammed both hands on the table, causing the letter to jump slightly off the table with the sudden force. “Roderich’s just a sissy anyways, what do I care what he wrote? This shouldn’t matter so much.”

Regret  pooled in Vash’s chest as soon as the words left his lips. Reaching out, he took the letter into his hands once more and brought it to his chest, allowing it to press against the pendant that hung over his heart. He hadn’t meant his words, he knew. Indeed, he hadn’t meant many of the hurtful things he’d said about Roderich in the past, it was only now that he could begin to admit it. He had wanted to see Roderich since the day he had received the silver lily, but had been stopped by a combined sense of stubbornness and fear. If Vash was going to face Roderich, going to face what Roderich had been offering (because that was the scariest part), he needed to be able to face their past first. The past, which he could so easily confront by simply opening the letter. Their past, which had haunted him for years as a spectre of rejection and hurt, which he had used for so long to justify his dogged solitude (and, if he was being honest, loneliness).

Vash sighed and put the envelope down. He still wasn’t ready to face that past just yet. His heart weighed heavy with regret as he gazed down at the letter as it lay pale and lifeless against the dark wood of the table. However, he could not bring himself to pick it back up.

“Damn it,” he muttered, pulling out a chair and dropping himself into it without a hint of coordination or grace. The furniture groaned in protest at the treatment, but Vash did not notice as he buried his face in his hands and tangled his fingers in his bangs. “What the hell am I going to do?” he asked the room, his tone bordering on defeated. The house remained silent. The quiet almost hurt more than the remorse, reminding him of how total his isolation really was.

Once upon a time, when he had demanded a question of the house, a little blond head would’ve poked around a corner and offered a timid answer. Once upon a time, it had never been quiet, with music from the latest dance class floating in the air as she flitted from room to room on her tip toes. Once upon a time, even before all that, there had been the laughter of two boys reminiscing over a long day at school, while the young girl looked on at her elders with curious, shining green eyes. Once upon a time, his heart hadn’t ached over joyful memories long gone. Once upon a time, he hadn’t been so alone.

Vash looked up then, taking in the room around him with a critical eye. Yes, the space was a lonely one. More than that, however, the space was a haunted one, bearing with his ghosts of a past he had yet to confront in full. The thought upset him. Here he was, finally trying to confront his past, and yet the very home in which he lived would not let him move on.   
“I need to get out of the house,” he realized with a groan, allowing his head to fall forward and hit the table. Pain shot into his forehead, causing him to sit back up with a jolt and rub the smarting area with his palm. He really did need to get out of his current environment -- his self-destructive tendencies were getting to the point that he could hear the ghost of Lily’s voice admonishing him for being hard on himself. That simply wouldn’t do. But where to go?

His eyes, almost in response, fell on the letter. Vash’s face fell into a scowl as he realized what he was thinking, anger once again rising as an instinctive method of defense to shield him from what he now knew was inevitable. Of course he needed to go see Roderich. And of course he had to read the letter in order to do that.

Reaching out with unusually steady hands, Vash took the envelope into his hands for the final time. Hooking a fingernail under the wax seal (because of course the aristocrat sealed his letters), Vash popped it off. Ever so careful, he lifted the flap to reveal the milky white paper within, upon which he could barely see the edges of Roderich’s curling script. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the letter out.

Much to his surprise, the page only contained a single line of text. Vash frowned in annoyance -- was this really what he had waited so long to read? A single line? However, he had long learned that he was probably best not to doubt Roderich. With a forced sense of determination, he pushed away his reactionary anger and read. What he found made his breath catch in his throat.

 

“You really should give life a chance sometimes you know. I promise it’s not there to make you miserable.”

 

He could hear them, their voices admonishing him in chorus. Lily, Roderich, telling him to simply give life a chance. While in the past they had been speaking to specific situations, their ghosts spoke only of life, of a future which he had been denying himself for fear of pain. Vash stared down at the paper, his eyes consuming the two short sentences with a ravenous sense of need. Roderich had, as always, known exactly what he had needed to hear. This time, however, Vash was willing -- no, more than that, he wanted to listen. He wanted to give life that chance Lily had encouraged him to take, the chance Roderich had gently prodded him toward. Now, after all this time, he was ready to listen. He was ready to go to Roderich.

 

~oOo~

 

Roderich sighed and put his pencil down, studying the manuscript in front of him with a critical eye. The piano and the floor around it were covered in paper covered in his scrawled musical notation, bearing the incomplete expressions of that unspeakable something that he had been unable to banish from his heart in the weeks since Christmas. He had been writing almost daily since then, helped along by a large package of staff paper that Liz had left on his doorstep on the 27th. The process had in fact be just as therapeutic as Liz had suggested it would be, if not more so. It certainly was gratifying. His piano instructor, upon discovering his compositions in his music binder at their first lesson after the holiday, had declared him a budding genius and demanded he continue composing. Feeling validated in a way he hadn’t for a long time, Roderich had returned home and dug even deeper into the music that poured from his fingers, seeking to understand the emotions that drove it, to harness and control them. To make them his own, in a time when he felt ever so distant from his very self.

It worked, to an extent. As he continued to compose, the music took on a sharper, clearer aspect as Roderich’s mind settled back towards normalcy. The emotion was more tangible, poignant even, as he explored the pain he’d felt through his music and slowly came to terms with it. The result was heartbreaking to listen to, painfully mournful and broken. But with the feeling in music, on paper, he could escape it for a while. And when it returned, it wasn’t as heavy.

However, he never managed to feel entirely normal. No matter how much he played, no matter how much he dug for answers in his heart with music, there was still part of himself that was still stuck in the dark. It nagged at him even on his best days, a constant but distant ache at the very border of his heart where he could neither reach nor understand it. It was this part of him that kept him composing even as the rest of him got better, and the frustration he felt brought an insistent edge to his somber melodies. It was almost as if the better he felt in general, the further he got from a true chance at normalcy.

Thus, he found himself composing near endlessly in a fruitless search for wholeness, his feelings strewn around him in the form of graphite on staff paper. He was playing again today, but that distant part of him remained as far away as ever. Every so often he would stop to scratch down a few bars, then return to the ivory keys. His focus was so complete that at first he didn’t hear the knock at the door. His finger slipped off a key as he heard the sharp sound, which clashed with the fluid rhythm of his current work. He frowned, unused to making such a mistake but pressed on. However, when the next knock came and again disturbed his rhythmic sense, Roderich scowled and dropped his hands from the keys. Who on earth would be knocking on the door right now? Liz was in Hungary with Gil for the last week of vacation, and he didn’t have any other friends. (This was, of course, discounting Vash, but Roderich had long since given up on the hope that he would ever see the other again.) Surely a delivery man wouldn’t come at -- he glanced up at the clock, squinting a little to read it without his glasses -- nine in the morning.

Grumbling slightly about people and poor manners, Roderich got to his feet and padded over to the door. His footfalls were soft on the thin carpet of his apartment, a much gentler sound than the harsh noise of the continuing knocks. Reaching the door, he paused. He had no real interest in seeing anyone right now, but good manners told him not to ignore a caller. Even if that caller came at nine am. With a sigh, he grasped the door handle and turned, pulling the door open to reveal the absolute last person he had been expecting.

“I don’t understand what you’re doing here, Vash,” Roderich sputtered after a long pause, taking in the disheveled man on his doorstep with wide eyes. His heart leapt in his chest as he looked at him, and his gut transformed into a pit of terrible longing. The world hadn’t felt this heavy for him since Christmas, and he wasn’t sure if the change was a good one. He felt a sudden and intense sense of self-consciousness, and wished desperately for his glasses to give himself a more presentable look. What is he doing here? he wondered as his heart began to pound in his ears. There was an odd fluttering feeling in his chest, deep within that faraway place he could never quite reach, as he stared at Vash.

Just as quickly as the strangeness appeared within him, however, Roderich became suspicious. His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. He could not deny his initial reaction to Vash -- the elated joy and raw want to hold and protect. The love he still knew he felt, no matter how much he had tried to push it away. However, he also knew how Vash felt, how he had rejected him. Vash was not here to return his love. If anything, Vash was here to hurt him again. Roderich knew he couldn’t take any more hurt.

Vash found himself taken aback by Roderich’s defensive posture, unsure of how to react. He had grown accustomed to Roderich’s warm, open kindness over the past several months, even though he had always known that such behavior was far from his default. He had recognized that line -- the one he had given Roderich so many times with an equal level of terseness. He’d never realized before how much they hurt. Roderich’s brusque  words and guarded expression stung a little, and Vash could feel his own hackles going up in response. He hadn’t come here to be snapped at. He had come here to feel safe.

However, his anger did not last long. Purple eyes stared at him hesitantly, and Vash could not help but notice a gleam of hope and, perhaps even more prominently, a dark shade of hurt in Roderich’s gaze. Vash stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away, unable to meet such a heavy look head on. He had forgotten, in all his preoccupation with his own grief, that he had hurt Roderich too. Guilt and self-doubt welled up inside him, and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in coming here. This would only hurt them both, he thought darkly. The trust that Roderich had fought so hard for was in pieces, and it would not come back.

But that means there was trust in the first place, doesn’t it? A nagging voice in the back of his head asked him. Vash paused, caught off guard by the thought. He did trust Roderich, he realized, if he had decided to show up on his doorstep after all that had happened. The break was not Roderich’s fault, as Vash had always insisted, but rather Vash’s. Vash looked up, steeling himself in order to look Roderich in the eyes. There was hurt there, for sure, but Vash knew better than that. Roderich had always been more complicated than that, and he knew as he looked that the pure kindness that Roderich had always shown him remained. Hidden, below layers of defense that Vash knew oh so well (for all the days he had spent behind them himself), lay the Roderich Vash knew. His heart stirred slightly at the thought, and he came to a decision. He didn’t entirely know why, but he wanted to coax Roderich back out of his shell and back to him. He didn’t like that defensive look in those violet eyes.

“I needed to get out of the house,” Vash offered, unsure of what explanation to give. Should he really tell Roderich what he was thinking? “And… I thought…” he paused and looked down, still hesitant. Roderich shifted slightly, his hand going to his face to adjust spectacles that he wasn’t wearing. Vash’s eyes followed, fascinated by the habitual action as much as he was by the sight of the other man so bare, so exposed. Roderich had always hid behind those glasses, and the intimacy offered by their absence gave gave his heart another flutter. He needed to to tell him. “It was haunting me, being there. I thought I might feel… safer with you.”

Roderich stared.

If he had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn’t that. He was dumbstruck, caught entirely off guard by Vash’s words and unsure what to do next. Vash’s entire demeanor had shocked him, displaying a level of vulnerability that Roderich had not seen since the day he had found Vash with a gun in his mouth all those months ago. He ached to see it, knowing full well how hard it was for Vash to be open with anyone. It hurt just to see Vash, if he was being honest. Even if the other had come to his door and begged forgiveness and offered undying love, Roderich might still have hesitated. The throbbing pain of Vash’s rejection still pulsed in his heart, lodged just beside that unreachable part of him that evaded his daily music sessions. It would have been safer to just tell Vash no and shut the door.

He couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he found himself staring at Vash, taking in the familiar angles of his face and defiant gleam in his eye. There was a vitality in him that hadn’t been there before, Roderich noted. Perhaps he’s finally ready to get better, he marveled, unable to look away. At the back of his mind, he registered that he shouldn’t be so proud, that his heart shouldn’t swell at the thought of Vash getting back on his feet. His hurt should be more, his defenses should be higher, he shouldn’t have wanted to invite him in. However, when he considered turning him away, all he could imagine was more pain. When he imagined Vash entering his home, however, he could feel life stirring in that faraway part of his heart that he could never reach. With Vash, no matter how much he disliked or feared it, he could feel a little more whole.

It wasn’t clear who was more surprised when Roderich stepped aside and invited Vash in. Indeed, they both paused and stared at each other in disbelief as the words fell off Roderich’s lips, bound to stillness by surprise, fear, and (although neither would fully admit it) joy. The stillness was broken by a tentative step forward by Vash, to which Roderich gave the faintest smile. Neither was sure exactly what they were doing, but both knew something had changed. There was no real trust in the air, only the faintest sense of hope, but it was enough. 


	12. Chapter 12

The first few days were awkward.

Neither Vash nor Roderich knew how to handle the other, Vash not sure of how to express the desire to grow closer, Roderich thoroughly terrified of the prospect of falling any harder for the other man. When they brushed elbows in the kitchen, they sprang apart and didn't look one another in the eye. When Roderich practiced piano, he avoided composing, afraid of what his music might reveal, and Vash remained respectfully out of sight. When Vash did his fitness exercises in the living room, Roderich made a point to bake or do something that kept him decidedly out of the way. The tension was palpable in the air, and Vash considered leaving just as often as Roderich considered kicking him out (which was frequently). However, neither could bear to actually act on their desires.

Then Vash started trying harder. He hadn't come to Roderich to be snubbed, nor did he want to see the friendship that he had so suddenly come to value wither. The fourth morning of being there, instead of staying in his room while Roderich played, he sat out and watched. Vash had noticed how Roderich had stiffened when he entered the room, and for a moment considered retreating to the guest room where Roderich had been letting him stay. However, while he stood deciding, Roderich began to play.

Considering it an invitation, Vash sat down on the floor, not daring to move even an inch closer, and watched. Part of him was unhappy to be so far away and resented the distance at which he was being held, but another part of him rejoiced at the small step. So he watched Roderich, losing himself in the music as he stared, barely noticing his anger dissolve away. And when the music turned familiar, he couldn't help but feel light inside, the music of Claire de Lune bringing him back to the concert hall where Roderich had played a plea for peace all those months ago, and then to the childhood they had shared in such golden happiness. Lost in the music, he failed to notice when Roderich cast a hesitant glance back at him, his cheeks coloring a little when he noticed Vash's rapt attention.

Later that day, when Vash was working out in the living room, Roderich peeked out for the first time from the kitchen to steal a glance. An electric feeling shot through him as he watched the other man do pushups, his muscles flexing visibly through his thin t-shirt. Roderich recoiled as if burned and withdrew into the kitchen. As he threw himself back into his baking, he tried to pretend what he was feeling was disgust rather than love.

The following day, Vash sat on the couch while Roderich played. While he stubbornly refused to repeat the mistake of looking back at him, Roderich could feel Vash’s eyes on his back. Vash was much closer to him this time, and the proximity made Roderich hyperaware of every move he made. A small part of him wanted to play Claire De Lune again, invite Vash over to the bench and replay their quiet moments of young friendship by the piano, but he had known that yesterday, too, had been a mistake. Those days were lost. Hurt panged in his chest, and he stopped playing suddenly, slamming his hands down on the keys. With a huff, he stood and stormed away to his room, hoping he would be out of Vash’s sight before the first tears could fall.

Vash was frozen.

He had known he had caused a rift between them, but he had not thought it would be this bad. His very presence seemed to be intolerable for Roderich, and he had no idea what to do about it. He knew he had no right to beg Roderich to trust him again, to not leave him alone when he was so close to being okay again, because he had thrown everything Roderich had ever given him in his face. The weight of guilt settled heavily on his chest, and for a few moments he considered simply walking out just then and letting Roderich be free of him. His entire being cringed at the thought. He couldn’t do that just yet. He still needed Roderich to know how much he needed him. And if he was being honest, he was still too selfish to let the other man go.

Still, Vash retreated to his room and did not exit for the rest of the day.

The next day, Vasch was woken by the sound of music. He had slept fitfully the night before, plagued by guilt, the remnants of his grief, and the agonizing question of how he was going to fix all of this. Sunlight streamed through the violet curtains on the lone window of the room, dimly lighting his waking moments. He knew as soon as he heard the music that it was not one of Roderich’s old favorite classics. He held his breath, almost afraid to miss it. This was Roderich’s own music.

Careful not to make any noise, he sat up in bed and swung his feet around, gingerly placing them on the soft carpet. A break in the music made him pause, but then he heard Roderich faintly grumble and the shuffle of paper, and then it began again. Definitely Roderich’s own music, Vasch decided, as it wasn’t the time of year for a lot of new repertoire and he knew that Roderich knew all of his pieces by heart. Anyways, Roderich would never grumble about the works of a master. No, such doubt was always reserved for himself.

Vasch gingerly tiptoed over to the door and pressed his ear to it, trying to get closer to the sound. He did not want to alert Roderich to the fact that he was awake and scare him off, but he did want to listen. The music was mournful and pained, in a dark minor key with a somber tempo. The raw beauty of it mesmerised him, and he took every discordant chord, every bittersweet resolution into his core. He had never before understood the concept of music as a language of its own, but this spoke to him. And while the music was gorgeous, its words cut him to the bone.

He didn’t want to believe that he was the source of the hurt in Roderich’s melody. However, he knew Roderich had never composed before and had always been a relatively happy person. The only time he had ever really seen Roderich as sad as the music he was playing was on Christmas eve, standing among the mess of a shattered vase and trying to process the harsh rejection (because it had been a rejection, Vash realized) that Vash had given him. Vasch sighed and allowed his head fall forward in sorrow, his forehead thumping on the hard wood. The knowledge of how much he had ruined was almost crushing.

The music stopped. Vash froze, cursing himself in his mind. Of course Roderich would have heard him. He knew that if this music was what he thought it was, there was no way Roderich wanted him to hear it. He remained still, hoping that Roderich would keep playing and give him more time to think, but then he heard the faint sound of the lid of the piano closing and the soft scuffle of the piano bench being pushed back over carpet. Vash released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and reached for the doorknob. He wanted… what did he want?

He allowed his hand fall away as he realized he didn’t know. He knew he wanted Roderich to keep playing, but he didn’t know how he wanted to go about that. If he walked out there, what would he say? And then what? What did he do if Roderich said no? He knew he didn’t want a rejection, as unfair as that was to Roderich. Vash sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands, thinking hard. He wasn’t good with words, so there was no point in going out there and trying to talk to Roderich. In fact, doing so would probably make things worse. But what could he do then?

Just as he thought he had exhausted all ideas without a solution, his stomach growled loudly. Vash huffed in annoyance, having no interest in leaving his room to eat, before an idea struck him. Roderich had brought him food when he was in the darkest throes of his grief. Maybe food would be a better way to express the reconciliation he wanted than his own stumbling words. He knew Roderich never ate what he considered a proper breakfast, and he was pretty sure he still remembered the recipe for that Austrian shredded pancake thing…

His mind made up, Vash stood up and cracked the door open, peering out to make sure Roderich was not still in the living room. Seeing that the coast was clear, he stepped out and did another look around. The door to the bathroom was shut, meaning Roderich was probably showering. Vash rolled his eyes with a faint smile, knowing how long it took the aristocrat to shower in the morning would probably give an environmentalist a heart attack. Confident now in his ability to complete his task, Vash made his way to the kitchen.

When Roderich walked out of the bathroom, nearly an hour later, he was struck by a faintly sweet smell in the air. Ignoring the fact that he was clad only in his violet bathrobe, he padded over to the kitchen, following his nose. Water dripped down his neck as he came to a stop, amplifying the shiver that had run down his spine at the sight. A plate of Kaiserschmarrn lay on the counter, fork and knife beside it. Beside the sink were a pile of washed dishes drying on a towel -- cooking supplies, and what looked like another breakfast plate and flatware. Up until now, Vash and Roderich had cooked and eaten meals alone, making their own food and avoiding one another with almost excessive stubbornness. However, it appeared to Roderich that Vash had taken it upon himself to begin to change that.

Roderich was unsure if he should take the plate. On the one hand, he was still very upset with Vash, and no amount of food would fix what had been broken between them. On the other, he was very hungry, and throwing out the food would be a total waste of money. Well, I suppose I cannot begrudge him a small effort, Roderich thought with a sigh. He had not forgiven Vash, not at all, but as he sat down with the dish and began to eat, a little knot came undone in his chest. He was not willing to trust yet, no, not even willing to hope. But perhaps he could be willing to see how far this went.

“How far” proved to be even further than Roderich expected, as he found lunch and then later dinner on the table for him, prepared without his notice as he had practiced piano, napped, or ran errands. The resentment lodged in his heart relaxed ever so slightly with each meal, eased along by the obvious care put into each dish. Roderich noted this change in his mood with faint happiness and a strong sense of wariness. He did truly want to be able to let go of the hurt he had been carrying, but the fear remained that abandoning his guard would leave him vulnerable to even further wounds. That night he lay awake for a long time, thinking.

The next morning he awoke much later than usual, woken by the strong beams of sunlight through his window rather than his own natural sleep rhythm. Somewhat disoriented, he stumbled out of bed and out to the kitchen, unaware of the faint clatter of dishes emanating from the room. Entering with a yawn, Roderich froze when he noticed Vash standing by the counter. There were two plates in front of him, and Roderich couldn’t help but stare as he watched Vash carefully place sliced fruit around their edges, encircling breakfast rolls and cold cuts. Vash’s hair fell forward to obscure his face as he worked, but Roderich could still picture the small furrow of concentration in Vash’s brow. Longing pooled in his heart and began to pulse through him, leaving him unable to stifle a quiet sigh. Just as suddenly as it came, however, Roderich clamped down. He couldn’t feel that way anymore. It wasn’t worth any further risk.

Vash stiffened as he heard Roderich’s exhalation. There had that feeling again when Roderich had walked into the kitchen, the one from all those months before that had been so soft, had drawn him so close to Roderich. Now, however, he had stuffed that emotion away where he couldn’t find it. He had hoped that perhaps today could sit with Roderich while they ate, but that sound had not been a happy one. Finished with his breakfast preparations, he picked up the plates and looked at Roderich. He searched for any sense of friendliness in the other man’s face, which seemed uncomfortably naked without spectacles, and found only suspicion. Bitter disappointment took root in his gut. Biting back a sigh of his own, Vash walked the plate over to Roderich and handed it to him before retreating back to his room carrying his own breakfast. He wasn’t ready to try and move any further just yet.

Roderich stood for several moments looking at the plate in his hands, wondering what had just happened. He could have sworn he had seen hope in Vash’s eyes, but just as soon as he had recognized it it had gone dark. Now, as he stood alone in the kitchen, there was a fleeting moment where Roderich hoped that Vash had been hoping. Then, as it came crashing down that Vash had still left him alone to eat, his hope fell away in favor of sadness. Vash didn’t want to see him, and he had no reason to think or hope otherwise.

With this mindset shaping his thoughts, Roderich finished his breakfast and made his way out to the living room, desiring the escape of music. To his surprise, he noticed that Vash’s door was open. Not willing to let the other man stop him from his goal, he sat down at the bench and placed his fingers on the keys, coaxing gentle chords out of the instrument. Lost in the gradual descent into his musical space, Roderich didn’t notice Vash slowly peeking his head out of his room to hear better. In fact, it was not until Vash had tiptoed all the way over to the couch and sat down that Roderich noticed him. Roderich missed a note as the flash of blond hair appeared in the corner of his eye, but he did not stop. Even if Vash had left him alone in the kitchen, he was watching him with rapt interest now. Roderich found it hard to justify walking away this time, considering the effort Vash had put in in the past couple days. His own feelings, which had rebelled against his strict controls, didn’t help. Resigned to his defeat, he played to the best of his ability, always keenly aware of the eyes on him without ever realizing the tenderness with which they regarded him.

Vash, on the other hand, considered the exercise a success. Roderich had not seemed put out by his presence in the kitchen, and had allowed him to sit in on his practice session. Even if Roderich had not shown him anything terribly personal (like those heartbreaking compositions from the previous morning), he had proved willing to have Vash around again. Warmth pooled in his chest at the thought. Emboldened, Vash found himself making his way to the kitchen early that day, determined to have dinner ready by the time Roderich came back from his piano lesson. His hands shook slightly as he prepared the food, knowing he was going to try to take a big step. He set the kitchen table with special care, rifling through Roderich’s spare closet to find a table cloth (which he found after considerable effort -- was everything the man owned purple??) and draping it over the table. His heart was pounding with that strange sense of tenderness again, only sharpening his desire to make things special.

When the door cracked open it was exactly seven pm, and Vash was just finishing plating the food. He had gotten pretty good at cooking over the years of cooking for himself and Lili (and oh did it bring waves of hurt when he remembered how much of the practice he was now putting towards Roderich had been meant for her), and he was very proud of what he had made. His satisfaction only grew when he noticed how quickly Roderich had noticed the smell of cooking and made his way to the kitchen without even removing his coat or putting down his bag. The warmth in his chest amplified at the sight of the other man, and Vash took the time to admire him as he made his way over. When had Roderich gotten so… pretty?

“What is all this?” Roderich asked when he arrived in the kitchen, gesturing at the set table. Vash started out of his strange thoughts, unused to the sound of the other man’s voice after spending so long with silence between them. Irritation kindled slightly at the sharp tone in Roderich’s voice, coupling with his nervousness and the heat in his heart to make him want to give a sharp response. However, he bit his tongue and made himself take a deep breath before speaking. He had worked hard for this. He wasn’t going to ruin it now.

“I thought… I thought we might have dinner together,” Vash stammered, cursing himself as he tripped over his own words. Despite how hard he tried to fight it, his temper was beginning to flare, in no small part due to his own frustrations with himself. Why couldn’t he just talk like a normal person? He could feel his cheeks heating, and he was increasingly gripped by the desire to take his plate and flee like he had before. Roderich’s silence wasn’t making things easier either. In his upset, Vash was struck by the very real possibility that Roderich might say no.

Roderich had no idea what to make of the scene before him. Just this morning Vash had scurried out of the room without even a greeting in favor of sharing a meal with him. Now he had prepared an obviously elaborate supper and was asking him to share? It didn’t make sense in Roderich’s head, and the wounded, cautious part of him told him he should just walk away. Vash did nothing but cause pain. However, the love in his heart could not ignore the obvious vulnerability in Vash’s expression, and he had prepared dinner after all. He was trying.

“Alright,” Roderich uttered, feeling slightly detached from himself. Part of him was still very skeptical, but there was a very large part of him that was trying very hard not to be ecstatic. Vash was trying to make things right.

Vash let go of a relieved sigh and gestured for Roderich to sit. They ate in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. Neither dared break the faint air of amiability that stretched between them, afraid to return to the tense awkwardness of before. However, when they both were done, they did the dishes together without springing apart at each accidental brush. And at the end of it all, Vash decided to go to bed early, so pleased with the day that he had no desire to risk the possibility of ruining it by staying up any longer.

The next morning, they ate a meal that Vash had prepared together without exchanging a single word, only a meaningful glance. Afterwards, Roderich did not comment when he noticed Vash following him out to the living room to listen to him play. Vash took his silence as acceptance, and sat back and listened in admiration. From where he sat, Vash could see Roderich’s delicate fingers dance across the keys, and he was reminded of a memory long gone of a concert hall where he had been drawn to touch those very hands. The urge overcame him once again, but instead of a protective instinct, Vash found himself wanting to hold and cherish those soft hands. Caught up as he was in his thoughts, he did not even realize how the feeling in his heart had swept out to fill him with a sweet sense of joy and longing.

Their pattern of wordless progression continued several days. Vash was growing bolder and bolder, allowing his elbows to brush Roderich’s as they passed by one another and helping Roderich around the kitchen as he baked yet another confection they didn’t really need (but both enjoyed). Thanks to the strange feeling Roderich brought out, his mood was almost never dark anymore, and when he lay in bed at night toying with the lily around his neck he was not sad, only pensive. What would Lili have thought about this strange dance with Roderich? Most nights, he would smile and imagine her poking fun at him, ignoring the tears that welled up in his eyes. Some nights it was harder than that, and he still cried himself to sleep sometimes, but he always woke up happier in the morning. And of course, in the morning, his thoughts were always of Roderich.

Meanwhile, Roderich’s tentative curiosity had quite nearly bloomed to full blown hope. With it, however, had grown his skepticism. Yes, Vash was working to repair their friendship, and yes it was working. However, Roderich was growingly increasingly worried that he was not able to be friends with Vash anymore. The romantic affection he felt towards the other man had grown so much in the past several days, restricted less and less by Roderich’s careful guards, that he had begun to feel the sting of Vash’s rejection anew. He had not had enough time to heal and return to the relationship capable of pure friendship. And if he was being honest, the idea of doing so right now hurt.

That was why, when Roderich found the sheet music to Claire de Lune laid out on the piano bench after dinner several days later, his first reaction was to recoil. He remembered the last time he had played the piece, with Vash sitting on the floor watching him, he had felt a sense of warmth towards the other man. Then, as he was now, he had been skeptical to pleasant feelings toward Vash, and decided not to play the song again. He glanced over at Vash, who was watching him from the couch with wide eyes. There was an emotion he did not recognize in Vash’s face, and he bristled a little at the sight of it. Anxiety gnawed at him. Was he being too trusting, letting Vash be here and bring up music from their past? Was he going to be hurt if he let this go much longer?

He looked down at the music, and then back at Vash. The affection in his heart won over after several long seconds of deliberating, and he placed the music on the piano. He did not need the sheets, but having them in front of him reminded him of days long past where him and Vash had shared this bench while he had played. He placed his fingers on the keys, trying to hold that image in his mind of those happier times.

For the first few bars, it worked, and the familiar music came out as clear as his memories of those earlier days. However, it was not long before the hurt bubbled to the surface and his hands took on a mind of their own, altering the music with increasing disregard for the page as his emotions grew and grew. Before he knew it, he was into a full improvisation on a theme of Claire de Lune, infused with all the hurt and sorrow that had tarnished those childhood memories of two little boys on a piano bench.

He did not realize that he had begun to cry until he slammed down the final chord. All of the hurt he had pent up these past several days, seeing Vash every day, wanting Vash every day to no avail, had come out with a vengeance, and he wasn’t done. Getting to his feet, Roderich rounded on Vash, who was staring up at him in open confusion. Looking at his face, which was full of hurt as much as it was with that unplaceable expression, was more than Roderich could bear.

“Get out!” Roderich shouted, gesturing with his arm. All his normal delicacy was abandoned in favor of defensive anger, which served as an incredibly delicate dam for the flood of pain he was holding in. He needed Vash to go before he broke, and he wasn’t going to be the one to leave this time. He couldn’t be that vulnerable again.

“Well what are you waiting for? I don’t want you here!” he demanded as Vash remained motionless. Please, he begged on the inside. Leave me to take care of myself. I can’t take it anymore. “I said I don’t want you here!” He repeated when he still got no response.

“Well I want to be here!” Vash yelled back, springing to his feet. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes blazed. At his sides, his clenched fists were shaking.

“I spent plenty of time paying attention to what you wanted,” Roderich snarled, his resentment getting the best of him. “I think it’s my turn to have my desires fulfilled.” And if they couldn’t be fulfilled in the ideal way, the least Vash could do was leave him to his own devices.

Vash recoiled as if slapped, an angry flush rising to his cheeks. He knew he shouldn’t say anything because of how bad he was at expressing himself, but something had snapped inside of him. “You know what? Yeah, I messed up. I didn’t appreciate you, I did the wrong things, I said the wrong things,” he snapped back. His entire body was trembling now, standing precariously on the edge between full blown rage and the other heat he had within him, and they were beginning to blend. The more he stared at Roderich, the more the two began to mix. “I was grieving, and I was in a bad place, and I screwed up, and I’m sorry, okay?” Vash glared at Roderich, daring him to rebuke him. Much to his surprise, Roderich had gone white, the anger drained from his face to leave behind a shocked expression. Normally Vash would have stopped then to assure if Roderich was okay, but his caring and angry sides had gotten too jumbled and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to say what he needed to. The words began to spill out unbidden, carrying truths he himself hadn’t fully acknowledged yet on their backs.

“I’m sorry Roderich, but I don’t want to leave. I made a mistake before, and I get it. I get why you wouldn’t want to trust me now.” Vash laughed bitterly. “God knows I know. It plays over in my head all the time when I sleep, the things I said. You and Lili are the only things that ever keep me up at night, you know that?” His voice began to escalate, bordering on hysteria. “I can’t not think about you. I can’t keep myself from thinking about your stupid music and how much effort you put into keeping me alive when all I wanted was to die. I can’t help but want to be here with you.” Tears rose up in his eyes, and he balled his fists into his pants in an attempt to keep them from shaking any more. “I was stupid and I fell in love with you and I should have realized it weeks ago but I only figured it out today, and I can’t leave without you knowing that, okay? I didn’t mean it when I told you to go before. I didn’t mean anything. I just didn’t know.”

Roderich was dumbstruck. Vash stood before him, doing his best to stay standing straight as his body began to shake with sobs, and all Roderich wanted to do was to reach out to him, tell him that he still loved him, and ask to hear it again. To be told, just so he could be sure, that Vash had fallen in love with him. However, he found himself frozen. The self-doubt and bitterness that had been controlling him had gone rigid, leaving him unable to speak, move, or act upon the tentative joy that had begun to bloom inside him. He had no idea what to say, no strength to move, no ability to express what he felt. Completely overwhelmed, he was forced to stand in silence as Vash broke down further and further, losing any idea of how to respond more with each falling tear. And when Vash had finally decided he had waited long enough for a response, Roderich had nothing to say as he ran for the doorway and left the apartment, taking Roderich’s heart with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiserscharrm - Shredded Austrian pancake favored by Austrian Emperor Franz Jozef I (yes, THAT FJ 1).  
> Claire de Lune - The song I have long intended to clarify as being "their" song and just now got around to it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood Music: Harp Interlude from A Ceremony of Carols - Benjamin Britten

The slam of the door was not nearly as satisfying as Vash had hoped it would be. The sound was like the fall of a judge’s gavel -- final, absolute, and crushing. He'd condemned himself to this, and he would now have to serve his sentence. However, he could not seem to bring himself to be led away by the ache in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the door and raised his hand to the knob. His fingers brushed the cool metal and recoiled as if burned, unable to complete the task assigned to them. Vash couldn't go back in. Fear of another rejection was a dark specter that hung over his mind, which combined with the heavy guilt of having ruined so much to leave him paralyzed.

He gave a heavy sigh and let his hand fall away. He turned around and lifted his foot to step away, only to find that that, too, was a futile endeavor. He had nowhere else to go. He could not return to the house haunted by his sisters ghost, not when all she'd wanted was him to be happy and he was anything but. He belonged here, where his heart lay. He turned back around and looked at the door. He didn't belong anywhere, he realized. He'd forsaken the only source of happiness in his life, leaving him with nowhere to go and nowhere to stay. What was he to do now?

Vash stared at the door. Muffling a sob, he sank to his knees before it, staring up at the door handle. A wordless sound of pain escaped his lips, and he slumped sideways, leaning against the wall of the small indent in the hall that framed Roderich's doorway. All he wanted was for Roderich to follow him out, but he knew better than to expect that. If he was being honest, he didn’t deserve it. He’d ruined everything. He’d hurt Roderich, and he’d been unable to do anything about it. Then, when he had a chance to make things right, instead of staying and facing the consequences of all he’d done, he’d run away. It was no wonder Roderich didn’t want to come after him.

Then, the handle moved and Vash’s heart leapt. He gasped and immediately sprang backwards, trying to make room for the door to open. He held his breath and listened to his heart pounding in his ears as he waited, hoping.

He exhaled after several painful moments of stillness. He slumped back against the wall, curling in on himself in the tiny space of the entryway as he stared up at the doorknob, watching for any further sign of movement. He did his best to remain vigilant, but it did not take long for the day to take its toll on him. His eyes fell slowly shut and his head rolled to the side in slumber, throwing him into dreams of redemption.

Behind the door, Roderich spent several moments listening to the echo. Like the final notes of a symphony, the sound of the door slamming hung in the air, pregnant with significance and the slow realization that it was all over. He remained frozen, struck still by the weight of all that had happened in such a short period of time. His heart pounded, propelled by the confused mess of emotions that had hit him all at once. Elation, confusion, terror, sorrow. Roderich wasn’t sure what he was feeling specifically, so he settled on calling it a combination thereof. For a while, all he could do was stay still and process what had happened.

Vash loved him. Roderich was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around that bit, let alone getting to the rest of what had just happened. If he didn’t feel so painfully awake, he would be sure he’d dreamed the words. He had many times before, but his dreams had ended much more happily than this. Embraces and forgiveness were supposed to be the conclusion to such a scenario, not paralysis and abandonment. There was no denying what had happened, the issue now was what to do about it.

He’d hurt Vash by not responding, that much he knew. He was probably hurting him even more by not following him out the door and letting him know that his feelings were reciprocated. However, as he considered his throbbing heart, he wasn’t sure if he felt bad for how he’d reacted per say. After all that Vash had put him through, wasn’t it only fair that he feel a little of Roderich’s pain as well?

He regretted the thought as soon as it came to mind. Vash was still grieving, and he’d never been good with emotions in the first place. Roderich unfroze and turned towards the door. Should he follow Vash? Just as the thought occurred to him, he swore he thought he saw the doorknob turn ever so slightly. Roderich held his breath, a flicker of hope kindling in his chest. All he wanted, he realized, was for Vash to come back to him. He’d done the pursuing for long enough, he’d been hurt and let down and pushed away and rejected and he was done having his feelings stepped on. His eyes locked on the door, eagerly awaiting further movement.

When none came, Roderich sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump in defeat. He was tired of this constant push and pull, the agonized waiting and hoping only to be disappointed over and over again. A few tears rolled silently down his cheeks, and he raised a hand to brush them away. A faint sob met his ears as he cried, and it took him a few moments to realize that he had not made the sound. His head shot back up, his eyes narrowing at the door, causing even more tears to fall. Was Vash still there?

He knew he should not investigate the sound, he should stay where he is and wait to see if Vash would take the step and open the door himself, and yet he found himself walking with his hand stretched towards the door handle. If Vash had stayed, waiting just out of his reach, that was enough, right? He hadn’t really run away?

Roderich had turned the handle halfway before realizing the error of his thought process. Even if Vash remained well within his reach, he’d still placed distance between them. No matter how far he’d gone, he’d still run away instead of remaining with Roderich. He’d preferred escape to facing up to all he’d done to Roderich. Roderich allowed his hand to fall back, and balled it into a fist. No. If this was going to happen, Vash needed to take the next step. Roderich wasn’t willing to reach out -- to be vulnerable -- again. Not when he was still aching from the last time.

Tears still dripping down his face, Roderich backed away from the door. He felt as if all energy had been drained from his body, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Still, he could not bring himself to walk to his bedroom, where he knew a familiar bed and comforting darkness awaited him. Instead, he padded over to the couch and curled up among the cushions that he wouldn’t admit to noting smelled a little like Vash. He lay there, staring at the door and listening intently for a knock, until the silence of sleep muted his worried mind and soothed him with the offer of temporary tranquility.

For all that sleep gave him peace, Roderich did not end up spending much time enjoying it. He awoke very early the next day, when the living room was still blanketed with darkness and the motions of morning were not quite ready to begin. Roderich sat up and stretched with a wide yawn, forgetting for a moment where he was and why he was there. This wasn’t his bedroom, he thought with a frown.

The memories hit him all at once, and his hand flew to his chest as if it could somehow soothe the aching within it from the outside. He glanced over at the door, knowing what he would find but hoping nonetheless that he was wrong. As was expected, nothing looked like it had been disturbed. Roderich’s heart sank with disappointment as he realized that he’d fully expected Vash to return in the night. Falling back into the cushions of the couch with a slight ‘oof’ as he disturbed joints stiff from his poor choice of sleeping place, Roderich allowed himself to get lost in thought. He’d wanted and hoped for Vash to come back in the night, yes, even expected it, but he knew that such desires were unrealistic. Vash, for all that Roderich had tried to do for him, was still hurting. The grief of his loss combined with the sorrow of what he’d perceived as a rejection from Roderich was probably much more than he could bear in his current fragile mental state. He’d only just begun to show signs of true recovery, and now Roderich feared he’d returned to square one.

He needed to go after him. The realization hit him as all of the recent ones had, with a combination of pain and hope and a sense of responsibility for the situation. He needed Vash to make the first move to repair their friendship (relationship? love?), but he owed it to Vash to make sure he was okay. His mind made up, Roderich got back up and smoothed the wrinkles out of his slept-in clothes and retrieved his glasses from the floor, where they had fallen some time during the night. Knowing that if he took too much more time to think he’d change his mind, he stood and went straight for the door instead of grabbing breakfast or preparing himself for the day. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob -- had he really been so upset he’d been willing to leave his door unlocked all night? -- and pushed the door open.

His action was met with resistance and a dull thud as the door collided into something soft directly outside of it. A yelp of pain and a loud string of swear words met Roderich’s ears, and he jumped back, startled.

“I wait out here all night and the first thing you do is hit me with a door, huh?” Vash grunted, rubbing the spot where he had been struck. Roderich blinked, half unable to believe his eyes. There, sitting in front of his doorstep, his clothes rumpled with sleep and his eyes still bleary with exhaustion, was Vash. His words, as usual, were far from friendly, but his tone was much less venomous than he was used to.

Roderich, again, was dumbstruck. His heart had leapt in his chest when he’d realized what he’d found, light with hope and happiness that almost banished the darkness he’d sunk into the previous night. However, he was also wary of what would happen next. While Roderich stared, Vash looked up at him, wariness in his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then got to his feet, drawing himself up to his full height in what Roderich could only describe as an attempt to look confident. Roderich looked down at Vash with a level gaze, silent. Inside of him, he was ecstatic that Vash had stayed, however, he remained guarded. He still wasn’t willing to take that first step.

“But I guess I deserved that,” Vash said, allowing his head to drop. His voice was rough, and his shoulders slumped over as his bravado fell away. Roderich didn’t deny it, still able to feel his hurt radiating within him. Adamant that he was not going to make the first move, he remained in still silence, waiting, hoping for Vash to speak up.

The quiet stretched for a painfully long time. It was almost the point where Roderich considered closing the door and walking away when Vash lifted his head and opened his mouth again. Roderich held his breath as Vash opened and closed his mouth several times, his throat working without making sound as he struggled with what to say. Half of him was smug, watching Vash struggle as he had for so long, but the other half was pained to see someone that he loved in such distress. He should say something, he knew, to spare Vash the awkwardness, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t heal all the way if he acted first. He couldn’t trust that Vash wouldn’t crush him and leave him again.

“Roderich, I….” Vash began, before pausing and biting his lip. Roderich looked at him with imploring eyes, silently begging him to keep going. Please, he thought. Please want this as much as I do. “Roderich, I’m sorry.”

Roderich released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Why don’t you come in?” he asked, gesturing behind him at his apartment. Vash looked at him for a few moments before nodding and following him inside. Roderich felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest as he closed the door behind him. No matter how the rest of this went, Vash had come back to him, they were together behind closed doors in a space that was theirs (and it was theirs, he realized, he’d only been to bent on being hurt to realize the mutuality that had grown between them).

Vash dropped himself onto the couch without much grace, running his fingers through his hair in a way that made Roderich’s heart flutter with the familiarity of it. With this hope he was allowing himself to feel, all the warmth and affection for the little things had suddenly come rushing back. His heart reacted to each and every thing Vash did, creating a deep swirl of feeling within his chest. Thus he cherished each little movement, and felt a sympathetic pang whenever he saw pain in the other’s eyes.

Unable to stand and do nothing any longer, Roderich sat down beside Vash and looked at him, prompting him to speak. Vash groaned and pulled at his hair.

“This shouldn’t be so damn difficult,” he grumbled under his breath, looking down. Raising his head back up, he gazed at Roderich with eyes that were laden with longing and guilt tied together with trepidation. At his sides, his fists clenched. “I… messed up.” Roderich nodded, but gave him an encouraging look to keep going. They both needed this. Something seemed to unclench in Vash then, and words began to tumble out of him all at once like water from a broken dam. “I pushed you away when all you wanted to help me, and I hurt you when you were doing your best to keep me from hurting, and I imposed on you when you needed your space and I confessed to you when you didn’t want to hear it.” His eyes shone with tears, and he was shaking as he tried to keep himself together. “And I know Lili is gone and I shouldn’t have blamed you for taking her spot in my life, but all I could always think was that you were replacing her and I hated you for it, when all you were doing was trying to make me feel less empty. I tried so hard to hate you I couldn’t bear to hear that you felt quite the opposite. I tried to hate you so bad I refused to realize I’d fallen in love with you.”

Vash paused, and took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself. “And then when I finally decided to get my act together, I did it without thinking how it would affect you. I came here expecting you to keep banishing my demons when I’d given you demons of your own, and then when I finally realized how I felt I didn’t even tell you the right way. I… I messed it all up.”

“....But you meant it?” Roderich said quietly, fearful hope pulsing in his veins. Vash nodded ever so slightly. Roderich reached out almost instinctively to place his hand over Vash’s, which was still clenched in the couch cushions. “You meant it when you said you… that you love me?”

Vash was electrified by the sudden contact, unable to process the question. The hands that he had spent so long watching from afar, the hands that teased music out of ivory keys and made Vash burn with protectiveness over their delicacy, were within his reach. He unclenched his fist and slipped his fingers between Roderich’s, squeezing softly. Electricity shot up his arm and into his heart as he felt Roderich squeeze back. “Yes, I meant it,” Vash affirmed, looking Roderich in the eye. He needed Roderich to know. He needed to somehow communicate to Roderich how much he regretted all that happened, and how much he just wanted to make things right. How much he wanted to make Roderich happy. How much he loved him. “I love you, Roderich. I have for a while, I’ve just been… too… stubborn to realize it.” The last words were still difficult for him to spit out, hindered by a pride that had been with him since birth, but still felt liberating to say once they had passed his lips. He’d been stubborn. And he’d almost ruined something that he was willing to take a chance on.

Now that his part had been said, Vash looked at Roderich expectantly. He’d done all he could, bared his heart and brought himself to trust Roderich enough to say the fact that he’d been running from for goodness knows how long. Now, he quivered slightly as he waited for a response, the vulnerability of the moment palpable between them. A small voice in his head, the darkness that had followed him for the last several months, nagged at him, told him he’d made too much of an error and that all of this was a farce. That part of him wanted to run, to hide, to be angry and never have to sit waiting like this again. However, before he could even consider acting on such nagging thoughts, Roderich spoke.

“I…. I love you too.”

Vash was sure he’d never felt so light in his life. All of the weight of his grief and guilt melted as Roderich invalidated all of his fears and affirmed the hope that had been held so deep within himself. He felt a giant grin split his face, and he took Roderich’s hand into both of his and held it to his chest, as if it was his only reminder that he was corporeal instead of dreaming. The warmth of it between his palms, he marveled, felt very much like the warmth he felt within himself, and he wanted more of it. Not fully thinking about what he was doing, Vash reached out and pulled Roderich into his arms, tangling the longer man’s limbs with his own shorter and stronger ones. Roderich, for his part, did not seem to mind the sudden affection, so Vash snuggled even more into the embrace. This was the warmth he’d craved for so long. This was what it felt like to be whole. It had been a long time since he felt that way.

“There’s still a lot we need to talk about you know,” Roderich said as he cuddled into Vash’s embrace, nuzzling his nose against his neck.

“Okay, then let’s talk,” Vash said, never one to beat around the bush.

And so they talked, their words filling the air as the sun rose and illuminated their faces, allowing them to stare in amazement at the other’s face and think wow, this is the man who loves me as their conversation meandered deeper and deeper into their past and they began to lay the foundation for finally trusting each other one again. And when the grumbling of Roderich’s stomach became too loud to ignore, Vash swept him up into a bridal carry without the slightest sense of absurdity, gallant in his new role as lover even as he teased the other’s noisiness while he carried Roderich into the kitchen and made him breakfast. They talked over breakfast, too, and when lunch came they continued to talk as Roderich took his turn at the stove, insisting that Vash was still his guest and had been doing far too much work around the house as it was. When Vash declared that was nonsense, Roderich only argued a little, happy to be silenced by a first kiss that sent fire through his body and gave wings to his heart. He’d missed their bickering, he realized, but he also liked this kissing thing quite a bit better.

When night fell, and a third meal had been cooked (together, this time) and eaten, they settled at the piano bench, where Roderich only complained a little that Vash leaning on him got in the way of playing. And when the notes of Claire de Lune began to shimmer in the evening air, they both knew that everything was going to be okay.

 

~oOo~

 

A sharp knock came at the door, and Vash rolled his eyes.

“It’s always open!” he shouted over his shoulder, not willing to leave his workshop. Roderich had returned his guns months ago, allowing him to return to his favorite past time and reclaim what was left of his life before Lili had passed. Vash smiled as he heard the door creak open and the padding of footsteps through the foyer. He looked up as Roderich poked his head in the door, feeling a little twinge of pain as he remembered how often Lili had done that exact thing in the past. However, he chose not to dwell on it, instead opting to tease his boyfriend.

“Your silly manners make it so much harder for me to focus on my work,” he chided Roderich.

“I’m sorry I’m a civilized young man who was taught not to just barge into other people’s homes unannounced,” Roderich said, his voice dripping with sarcastic haughtiness. “Terribly sorry to be such an inconvenience for you.”

“Yeah yeah, make yourself useful would you? I could use a screwdriver, if your ‘refined’ self knows what that is,” he shot back without any real malice. Roderich gave a wicked grin and swooped in to plant a kiss full on Vash’s mouth.

“I would never lower myself to familiarize myself with gun tools,” he quipped, his eyes dancing. “I believe I am more useful in other ways.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Vash said, finally abandoning the half-assembled pistol he’d been working on repairing in order to give Roderich a proper greeting. “What brings you here? I told you I wouldn’t have dinner ready for another hour.”

Vash had moved back into his house a few days after they’d worked things out, knowing that if he was every going to truly return to normalcy he was going to have to face his demons head on. However, neither could bear being away from the other for very long (as much as they would deny being so disgustingly codependent), so they switched between homes and cohabitated whenever possible. This week they were staying at Vash’s house, meaning Vash got home earlier did the cooking while Roderich showed up in the evenings after practicing all afternoon in the university practice rooms.

“I finished early, so I figured I’d grace you with my presence and maybe even help out with making dinner,” Roderich said, giving Vash a tender smile. “That is, if I’m not too much a burden to have around the kitchen.”

“I’m sure I can find some use for you,” Vash returned, snaking an arm around Roderich’s waist.

“If nothing else, I can be decorative,” Roderich said, brandishing a bouquet of flowers that Vash had failed to notice in his preoccupation with guns and kissing. “Literally.”

“Is that edelweiss?” Vash asked, his eyes widening. Roderich had long joked about how they should decorate the house with Edelweiss, as it was the national flower of both of their native countries. However, he’d been unsuccessful in procuring some so far.

“That it is,” Roderich replied, flashing an uncharacteristically excited grin. “I found it at a farmer’s market on the way here. It was terribly expensive though, so don’t expect to see it very often.”

“Cheapskate,” Vash scoffed, which Roderich rolled his eyes at.

“You’re one to talk,” Roderich shot back. “Who refused to go see the opera with me because he didn’t want to pay for tickets?”

“That was because opera is boring, not because I like money,” Vash replied in defense, although it was a total lie. Spending time with Roderich had given him a deep appreciation for classical music, opera included. The tickets were just too damn pricey.

Roderich raised his eyebrows in suspicion, but did not comment. “So where do we put these?”

“I don’t have any vases, but I’m sure we can figure something else,” Vash replied, putting the rest of his tools aside and padding out into the hallway. Roderich followed him dutifully, clutching the blooms. Vash made his way into the kitchen and took down a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water and then holding his hand out for the flower. Roderich passed them, and then followed Vash as he walked back out to the dining room, where he deposited them at the center of the table. He stepped back to look at them, only to be hit by what he had done. That was where the lilies had stood. He’d given Roderich’s flowers their place. Hit hard by the realization, Vash reached for Roderich’s hand and looked over at him, unsure of what to do. This struggle came up in his head every so often, and every time he thought he’d solved it, it rose back up to bite him. He didn’t want Roderich to take Lili’s place. He didn’t want to feel like he was betraying her memory by being here with him.

Roderich, apparently realizing Vash’s dilemma, squeezed Vash’s hand and then dropped it, moving to pick up the makeshift vase from its position at the center of the table. Without any hesitation, he turned back around and walked back into the kitchen, indicating that Vash should follow him. Unsure of what to do, Vash shuffled after him in tense silence.

“It doesn’t have to replace the lilies,” Roderich told Vash, depositing the edelweiss on the windowsill over the kitchen sink. “There’s a place for them too.”

Vash gave a watery smile and took a step to wrap his arms around Roderich from behind, burying his face in the other’s purple sweater. Roderich stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed into the embrace, turning around to hold Vash properly. They stood there for a while, finding solace in each other’s company, until Vash felt strong enough to break away and give his usual insistence that he was okay before starting dinner.

They weren’t completely whole yet, and they were still working each other out. But what was important was that they were trying, and, as Roderich told Vash on a near daily basis, the important thing was that they were, someday, going to be okay.

And that someday was getting closer and closer with each passing moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your love and support so far. It's been a long journey to get to this last chapter, and I'm so grateful for everyone who stuck with me to finish this story out. I'm so sorry it took so long, but I hope I made this story worthwhile for all of you.


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